Breath
by connora
Summary: My name is Amelia Bones. I have a story. And I'd like to tell it to you.
1. Prolouge

**Prologue.**

Some of you know my name. But only a handful of you know who I really am, and while most of you may not consider me important, I have a story and I'd like to tell it to you.

You all know Harry; The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, he probably has more names then that by now. And you know what happened to him. You know that he got married after the second war and he had children, raised his family. You know his dad, James, and what became of him and his friends, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Lily. You know what they went though and how they suffered, some deserving, some not so much.

But what you may not know is that I knew them, too. I was older and while that may seem irrelevant, it's important. You know them, and you know their story. But you don't know about the rest of us. You don't know about me.

I was there, my family and my friends were there and somewhere within the pages that our names were scrawled on, we got lost in the shuffle. We existed but most of you don't remember. Knowing our names does not constitute knowing us. You don't know what our fears were, why we fought in the war and why we didn't. You don't know our trials and triumphs. You don't know us, not at all.

I'm here because we don't want to be forgotten.** I** don't want to be forgotten.

I wasn't a Marauder and I didn't sacrifice my life for my child, but I lived. Oh, I lived. I had friends and I had a family. I laughed just as much, cried just as often, lost just as many and loved just as hard.

My name is Amelia Bones. I have a story, and I'd like to tell it to you.

_Amelia S. Bones_

* * *

Her hair was short and soft and curled  
And his was blonde and ridged  
And when the tale of two unfurled  
They built and burnt their bridges

Sixteen is too young to give a heart  
And seventeen too young to break it  
But when the love affair did start  
It was surely unrequited

Of notes and books and broken spines  
Over drinks to flat to consume  
A battle over heartache entwined  
Inside this required room

Demons fought and demons born  
Their lives remained connected  
Through the war of peril, hate and scorn  
Their bond was forever erected

Until her death not so long ago  
Upon her he would scathe  
But all his stone could not contend  
The Queen Anne's Lace on her grave

In the walls therein lies a story  
Through the plaster and the stones  
For too long we have ignored  
What happened to Amelia's Bones


	2. Chapter One

**One**.

A family of five walked swiftly through the gates and into Kings Cross Station on a muggy August morning in 1971 carrying several bags of luggage and three caged barn owls with a sheep dog in tow. Ethan Bones walked beside his wife, Adelina, their three children, Edgar, Amelia and Elliot followed close behind. The couple had been married for well over eighteen years and was two of the most successful Aurors in the Wizarding World. They resided in an oversized and over furnished house in the south of England in Andover. Their summers were often spent in France with Mrs. Bones' parents, Céline and Pierre Peau.

Their three children normally looked forward to the annual trip, namely the femme Bones child, though this year, it had been hard for Edgar, the eldest, to leave behind his beloved better half, Nathalia Bobbin. Edgar stood at a tall five foot eleven with short dark brown hair and light blue eyes. His facial features were well defined and his cheekbones were strong. Elliot, the youngest of the Bones children, had looks that paralleled his brothers, though they were much softer and undefined, still hidden in his adolescence. The middle child, Amelia, was shorter than both of her brothers, a petite five foot five. Her hair was much like that of her brothers, dark brown and uncommonly soft and fell just below her shoulders in natural tendrils. Her eyes, however, were darker, a navy blue, the trait of her mother's side of the family and could almost always be found under her heavy eyelashes.

Each played their role in rank of the Bones children. Edgar was by all means the leader of the group. He played the part of the older brother in every aspect of the phrase. He looked after his siblings in a way that ensured their safety and could be suffocating at times, for Amelia in particular. Amelia was a bit more easygoing than her older brother, though she took her schoolwork far more seriously. Being all members of the Ravenclaw house, they were all studious, Amelia, however, was more disciplined and poised and much harder on herself than anyone else. Elliot, though the youngest, stood as a sort of middle ground between his brother and sister. He was energetic, like Edgar, but compassionate, like Amelia. He was a mixture of both of them, and therefore, blended with the two of them quite well.

The five Bones family members darted in and out of groups of muggles, their eyes all set on platform 9 and 3/4. Their dog, Maxwell, lagged behind them, stopping to sniff the hands of strangers.

Swiftly but surely, the family stepped through the platform and back into their world. Students and parents alike walked past them, eager to see new and old friends. Shedding their cloaks, the Bones family stepped back into their skin.

"Merlin, it's good to be heading back." Edgar said, taking off his cloak and draping it over his free arm. "I've missed the old place." he said with a soft grin.

"Edgar Bones," Amelia said shaking her head, "you tell such lies. You can't possibly miss the smell of must and text and ink splattered across your desk. The only reason you want to get back to Hogwarts is so you can jump right into Quidditch again. As if you didn't do enough training with Amos Diggory and Kingsley Shacklebolt over the summer. Honestly, if I don't see another broom stick for the rest of my life, I think I can die considerably happy." She said with a roll of her eyes.

Edgar's passion for the sport wasn't a secret. Since he had learned to ride a broom, he knew that he was destined to be a player and his main aspiration had been to become a captain, which he had successfully done. When he wasn't with Nathalia or Kingsley and Amos, he was down at the pitch, trying to perfect his game.

"Lia," he said using her nickname affectionately, "You say that like it's a bad thing! Quidditch is something that cannot be explained. It's more then a feeling, but less then a mood. There is nothing better then feeling the wind rush through your hair-"

"And getting the knots out-" She muttered.

"Feeling your eyes widen-"

"And water-"

"Watching the scenery wiz past you-"

"Watching your breakfast wiz past you-"

Edgar rolled his eyes at his sister's sarcastic comments. The main reason that Amelia hated Quidditch so much was because she wasn't good at it. Amelia liked order and she liked facts that never changed. With her studies, she always knew what the answer was. Quidditch was unpredictable; one never knows how the game is going to be played.

"Alright, fine." He considered. "So you don't like Quidditch, but you can't tell me that you didn't ogle Kingsley every chance you got." He teased.

Amelia shook her head at this, biting back a grin and gave Edgar a 'quit-while-you're-ahead' look. Edgar had been trying to set his sister up with Kingsley for nearly a year. Her friendship with Xenophilius Lovegood, Edgar feared, was going to result in marriage. He had once tried to express this concern to Amelia but she just laughed it off. In Edgar's mind, everyone should be paired off before the age of seventeen and on their way to making plans for a future family. Everyone should want a good job and a white picket fence around their house. Sometimes, Amelia thought her brother was right of out the 1950s.

True, Xeno and Amelia had been friends since they met when she was eleven and he twelve, but nothing substantial had mounted. Some thought that Xeno harbored feelings for Amelia, though Amelia would argue otherwise. Nonetheless, Edgar, being the older brother that he was, was concerned for his sister. He didn't have any particular problems with Xeno and worked with him quite often in a variety of classes. But in terms of whether or not Xeno was a fit provider, Edgar just didn't see it. The blonde haired boy had no exceptional skills that Edgar was aware of, besides that of writing lengthy essays on obscure topics. Essays that he presented to Amelia to read and Edgar took this to be an odd form of flirtation.

So Edgar took it upon himself to play matchmaker. Someone intelligent, outgoing, friendly, brave. It had really come down to one person: Kingsley. He was everything that Amelia needed. Not to mention, it worked quite well in their circle of friends. Emmeline Vance, Amelia's best friend, had started dating Amos, Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, at the end of the last school year. Edgar liked to think that this meant something symbolic.

But Amelia fought Edgar's attempts at every turn. When he tried to get her to go to Hogsmeade with Kingsley, she faked food poisoning. Each time he tried to ensure that she sat next to him at dinner, she made sure to arrive late or early and squeeze in next to other housemates. That's not to say that Amelia didn't like Kingsley. They generally got along and enjoyed each other's company. But he was Edgar's best friend, and Amelia just didn't think of him like that.

"Five minutes," Elliot said with a mock plea in his voice, "that's all I ask. Five minutes were the two of you are fighting or trading banter. It's a bit annoying, really."

It wasn't a secret that the two oldest Bones children were closer to each other than to their brother. Elliot always fell short relationship wise and though it wasn't intentional, it was just the way it was. The three of them never spoke it aloud, but it was known among them that Edgar and Amelia had more affection for the other then for their little brother.

"Oh stop it." Edgar said, ruffling the hair of his fifteen-year-old brother.

"What would you do without us?" Amelia said sweetly.

"Where do you want me to start?" Elliot asked seriously and Amelia shoved his shoulder lightly.

"Now what on earth could Elliot Bones have done to deserve that?" called the familiar voice of Cordelia Clearwater, Elliot's best friend of five years and girlfriend of one, and Elliot blushed at her comment.

Cordelia, who never went by anything but Delia, had been apart of the Bones' lives for what seemed like an eternity. The fifteen-year-old Ravenclaw had auburn hair and clear blue eyes and it wasn't hard to see why she and Elliot worked so well together. Elliot was easy going and did things the slow way. He took time to appreciate things. Delia was factual and logical and she observed most of what other people did not. They were good for each other. She was the oldest of three children and her parents had grown up with Mr. and Mrs. Bones. Their lives, it seemed, were all interlinked.

"Delia," Edgar said as she kissed Elliot on the cheek and embraced Amelia, "you haven't lived with him for fifteen years. You can stick up for him all you like once you've got some perspective."

"Oh, shut your face." Delia said playfully, hugging Edgar lightly.

Each time they came back to school, it was like a family reunion. Delia and Edgar's better half, Nathalia, were already part of the family. They didn't have rings to prove it yet but Amelia wagered that within five years both boys would be married with 2.5 children. It was a thought that she had to roll her eyes at.

"Yeah, yeah." Edgar said, pulling back from Delia, scanning the crowd behind her. "Say, you haven't seen Nathalia, have you?" he asked hopefully.

It was almost like it was planned. Nathalia tapped Edgar on the shoulder from behind, and just as quickly as he saw her, he was holding her. While Amelia never found his brother's relationship especially romantic, there was a certain way that they looked at each other and more often then not, Amelia chose to tear her eyes away from private moments like this.

"Looks like just about everyone is here." Elliot observed curiously.

"We ought to club him for that, don't you reckon, King?" the voice of Amos Diggory declared.

"I don't know about that." The booming voice of Kingsley reasoned. "We might be exempt from Quidditch if we do."

"If I hear another word about Quidditch before we set foot in that school …" Amelia trailed off.

"Good to see you, too, Lia." Amos grinned hugging her stiff and irritated frame.

"Don't mind her, Diggs." Edgar said with a wave of his hand and his greeted his best friends.

"She's been in a foul mood all morning." Elliot added and Cordelia elbowed him as if to chastise him.

"She probably just needs to see Emmeline. Then she'll cheer up." Nathalia said of the two best friends.

"Excuse me." Amelia said, grinning with wide eyes. "I'm right here and most certainly not a pronoun."

The only members of the squad missing where Emmeline and Xeno, though it was a safe best that they wouldn't see Xeno until he hurried at the last minute to get on the train as it was pulling away. Most of them greeted the two Quidditch Captains respectively.

"Lia." Edgar said to his sister, his light blue eyes twinkling. "Aren't you going to say hello to Kingsley?"

This was exactly what Edgar was good at. Pinpointing things he liked to see happen. Amelia wouldn't put it past him for envisioning a romantic feet-off-the-ground embrace between the two. She scrunched her face up at Edgar and turned to Kingsley with a brighter then usual face.

"Hello, Kingsley. It's so good to see you again." She said as if forcefully. "It's only been four days since the last time I saw you and already you're looking older. Where does the time go?" she said dryly.

"Hey, Lia." Kingsley said, rolling his eyes at the exchange between brother and sister.

While Amelia was constantly fighting Edgar's attempts at setting her up with the Gryffindor, Kingsley didn't mind so much. He had a lot of girlfriends in the past but no one made him laugh quite like his best mate's little sister. She was quirky and did things the hard way, a trait that he found quite admirable. He never paid much attention to her until she turned fourteen. The expression 'had grown up over the summer' was appropriate but didn't do her justice. She was no longer sharp and angular but curvy and soft. Her face had the appearance of a woman instead of a girl. And her eyes. He had noticed their unusual color before but now he couldn't _stop_ noticing them. Despite his sudden attraction to Amelia, he hadn't made any sudden moves but he had planned on it.

Before the Bones left for France, Kingsley had spent almost all of his time at their house under the impression that he was there to see Edgar. In reality, he had been trying to get up the nerve to ask Amelia to do something, _anything_ with him just so they could be alone. But she was confident and that was intimidating – and appealing – so he waited. It was this year, he decided, that he would try and get her alone. As Head Boy this year – and that had been one of Edgar's selling points – he would have to ride in a compartment with the Prefects, which Amelia was one of. He only hoped that they would be seated together.

"Look," Edgar said, indicating the girl with soft chestnut locks who made her way toward them at a bit of a run.

Emmeline Vance was smaller than Amelia but her energy and optimism made her that much taller. The two girls hadn't seen each other since the Marchbanks' Summer Solstice at the end of July as after the party, Amelia and her family left for France. But even a day apart was enough to drive the two girls mad.

"Emmeline!" Amelia grinned embracing the girl as they wobbled side to side in a hug.

"Just like a bad penny I'm not that easy to get rid of!" Emmeline teased, her grin a mile long.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you!" Amelia stressed, pulling back to get a good look at her friend.

"I think I can imagine. Have you been in sheer agony?" Emmeline said, throwing her hand against her forehead.

"Oh, it's been worse then that." Amelia nodded. "I've haven't been able to eat or sleep. Why, it's a wonder that I haven't lost the ability to speak."

"And wouldn't that be a shame." Edgar muttered when Amelia glared at him.

"I've missed you two." The Ravenclaw said to the brother and sister.

"And not me?" Amos said, pulling Emmeline toward him.

Amelia and the rest of the group directed their attention elsewhere while the four months strong couple shared a private moment. Sometimes, Amelia thought it would be best to give in to Edgar's wishes. Everyone else in the group had paired off with the exception of herself and Kingsley. It made sense. Just the same, while Amelia knew nothing about love or hearts skipping beats, but she was pretty sure that when she looked at Kingsley she shouldn't immediately think, 'Gee, his hair is large.'

"Alright, alright." Edgar said putting one arm around Amos' neck and the other around Kingsley's. "Men, we have loads to discuss. The upcoming season is crucial and I want to make sure that you're prepared for the loss of the House Cup. Quidditch isn't just fun and games anymore. It's blood, sweat and tears and I'll be damned-"

"ENOUGH!" Amelia yelled at Edgar. "I am going to break your broom in half if you say another word about that god-awful sport." She said tersely.

"Thalia," Edgar said to the blue-eyed beauty, "I'll catch up with you on the train. _Some_ people don't appreciate the passions of their loved ones." Edgar said, throwing his head up in the air, pulling the two boys with him.

"It's an obsession!" Amelia called after them. "Em, I think my head might explode." She said, resting her head on Emmeline's shoulder.

"There, there." Emmeline grinned, patting Amelia's head softly.

"Right, well," Elliot said, "We're going to grab a compartment. We'll see you guys later on." As he departed, Cordelia and Nathalia followed, leaving the two girls to themselves among the crowd of people.

"Alright," Amelia said, turning to Emmeline after making sure they were alone, a devilish smile on her lips. "You have to tell me _all_ about your summer with Famous Amos." She grinned.

"Lia," Emmeline said with a roll of her eyes. "You know I hate it when you call him that. And what summer are you talking about? He was at Quidd-" Emmeline started but Amelia cupped her hand over the girl's mouth.

"Please refrain from saying that word." Amelia pleaded.

"Okay, okay." Emmeline said, pulling her mouth away from Amelia's hand.

"Come on, Em. You must have spent _some_ time together before he left." Amelia urged.

"Some is too optimistic." The girl said shaking her head. "We went to the Three Broomsticks once or twice and had lunch in London. But that was really it." She said shyly.

"Tell me," Amelia said biting her lip mischievously. "Was it _famous_?"

Laughing, Emmeline lightly shoved her friend. Amelia had been ecstatic when Amos and Emmeline started dating, perhaps more then the actual couple. She longed to see her friend happy and Amos seemed to make her so. The only problem was that Amos loved Quidditch more than almost anything else so he really had to put forth effort to see Emmeline. But it was evident that he really cared about her; any girl that could get Amos Diggory to spend an entire day without touching a broomstick had to be something special.

"Okay," Amelia sighed holding her hands up in surrender, "I promise, no more Amos jokes."

"Thank you." Emmeline nodded.

"It's a good thing that Shacklebolt doesn't rhyme with anything." Amelia said too quickly without thinking and Emmeline's chocolate brown eyed got wide.

"Amelia Susan Bones!" she grinned. "What are you not telling me? I knew that Kingsley was spending all of that time at your house for some reason! I just knew it. What happ-"

"Slow down, Vance." Amelia broke in, laughing. "Nothing happened – at all. I think all of Edgar's wishful thinking has severely damaged my cerebrum."

"So …" Emmeline trailed off, waiting for an additional response.

"So nothing. There is no immediate future for myself and Kingsley, I promise." Amelia said with a nod.

"Shucks." Emmeline frowned. "I was hoping that you, Nathalia and myself could all compare stories about dating a coveted Captain." She teased.

"Invite Narcissa Black to join us and you can count me in." Amelia said with a mock interest tone.

"Why on Earth are you talking about _her_?" the lithe and airy voice of Xenophilius Lovegood echoed from behind them.

At the same time, Amelia and Emmeline embraced their six foot tall friend with cheers of 'Xeno! We missed you!' Xeno, who squeezed the two girls tightly, had been away for the better half of the summer holiday in South America studying various types of Snarchems. His passion for strange creatures was undeniable.

"So," he started, shaking his mop of blonde hair out of crystal blue eyes, "why are we talking about Narcissa Black?"

"We were just discussing the possibility of inviting her to a Girlfriends Of The Captains get together." Emmeline stated matter of factly as Amelia gave her a burning look.

"Really?" Xeno said, nodding. "So that would mean Nathalia, you," he directed toward Emmeline, "Narcissa and … Who's King with?"

Emmeline turned from Xeno to Amelia triumphantly and the navy-eyed sixteen year old pursed her lips into a tight line.

"Ah." Xeno said. "I guess all of Edgar's pushing has finally paid off." He stated with a small nod.

"Oh, no." Amelia said shaking her head quickly. "No, not at all. Kingsley and I are just friends. Barely." She added for effect.

"Give it some time, Bones." Emmeline grinned. "You'll be all over him before the year is out."

"Xeno." Amelia said turning to the boy. "Would it be completely horrible if I jinxed her into submission?"

"As a Prefect, I'd say that would be setting a bad example." Xeno replied with a quiet grin.

"And you wouldn't want to do that." came the loving voice of Mrs. Bones

Much like her daughter, Adelina Bones stood very straight and very poised. For ages, all Bones' women had been schooled in music and the last few generations had been skilled pianists. Therefore, Amelia and her mother had immaculate posture. Unlike her daughter, however, Adelina Bones was nearly five foot eleven, almost as tall as her husband. This fact, however, did not stray from her motherly nature, not only from her own children, but Xeno and especially Emmeline as well.

"Hello, Emmeline, Xeno." Mrs. Bones said, nodding toward Xeno as she enveloped her second daughter in a comforting embrace.

"Hey Mrs. B." Xeno said.

"Hello, Mrs. Bones." Emmeline said, pulling away. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you." Mrs. Bones said with a nod. "And you?"

"Alright, I suppose." Emmeline said with a slight smile.

"How is your mother?" Mrs. Bones inquired with a quite curiosity that only Amelia and Emmeline picked up on.

"She's better. A bit tired, but well enough."

"I've been meaning to owl her but the timing was never right. I didn't want the message to be intercepted," she said in a voice loud enough for only the two girls to hear. Xeno, who was oblivious to the subtle hints that the women seemed to be eyeing each other with, had directed his attention to the book he had tucked under his arm and he begun flipping through the pages. "But Amelia and myself wanted to extend the invitation to you and your mother to come stay with us over the winter holidays."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bones, but I wouldn't want to impose-"

"Really, Em." Amelia said, "We have too much room as it is."

"It's the least we can do," Mrs. Bones continued. "Besides, it will be good to see your mother again."

"I'll .. I'll let her know." Emmeline nodded.

"To right you will." Mrs. Bones said knowingly.

A secret was shared between Amelia, Emmeline and Mrs. Bones, perhaps one of the best kept in the Wizarding World.

Alexander Vance was a great Auror. He had helped to capture some of the most dangerous wizards and with the upcoming turmoil with a certain dark wizard, he was one of the most prized workers. He was an amazing man when he was sober. He loved his family, but he loved firewhiskey more and two of seven nights a week, it got the better of him. Most of his drunken anger was taken out on fine china and household objects, at least, up until one year ago.

Amelia has suspected that things in the Vance household weren't quite right. Emmeline frequently wrote home and often cried in her sleep during their fifth year, calling her mother's name. It was when Amelia found Emmeline huddled in the owlery, clutching her mother's letter, sobbing that she finally forced her friend to tell her the truth. Alexander Vance had been targeting his wife, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Abuse was not exempt from the Wizarding World. Amelia told her mother shortly thereafter even though Emmeline begged her not to, but Amelia prided herself on honesty, even in the most direr of situations. Mrs. Bones was deeply upset with the news, but waited before telling her husband and advised the two girls to keep the information between them.

At the Marchbanks annual Summer Solstice, Alexander Vance arrived with his wife, Elizabeth and daughter, Emmeline. However, only if looking for it did one notice the faint circles under Elizabeth's eyes, the remnants of a bruise on her cheek she had forgotten to hide, the slight limp in her step and the wince as she took it. Amelia and her mother later found out that Mr. Vance forbade his wife from using magic after one of their bouts. Amelia mulled over the thought that he, in a sick state of mind, wanted to display his work.

Mrs. Bones had decided right then and there that Elizabeth and Emmeline needed help but Elizabeth had outright refused to leave the man she loved. Because Emmeline would not leave her mother by herself at the hands of her father, the Bones women found themselves watching a vicious cycle. The timing was terrible; almost directly after the Solstice, the Bones made their trip to France. Mrs. Bones decided that both Emmeline and her mother would spend the holiday with her family, whether they liked it or not.

Neither Emmeline nor Elizabeth could admit that they man they knew five years ago had turned into a monster. It was when Emmeline spoke of her father's achievements that Amelia wondered is she realized who he really was. Emmeline was, of course, secretive about her family and the only person she sought to confide in was Amelia. Not even Edgar or Elliot knew of her circumstance, and especially not Amos. Emmeline had made of a point of avoiding all conversation about her father with him.

"We'd be much obliged." Emmeline said with a genuine smile.

"Good." Mrs. Bones said happily. "And Xeno." She said, tearing the boy away from his reading material. "You and your family are welcome to come stay with us as well."

"Thanks Mrs. B, but we're heading to Russia right after the holiday break starts. It's the only time of year when you can properly observe the mating rituals of _vertcouchers_." He said pointedly.

"I see." Mrs. Bones said with a quizzical look before bidding farewell to the children and making her way back to her husband.

"Mating rituals?" Emmeline posed as soon as Mrs. Bones walked away. "Hey, Lia-"

"Don't you dare." Amelia said, shaking her head with a grin.

"Just a suggestion." Emmeline shrugged.

"OY!" Edgar called to the three Ravenclaws. "You'd all better get a move on. The train is about to pull out of the station. Lia, you can stay behind if you'd like. I think it'd make our lives all a little less hectic."

Amelia rolled her eyes at her brother's sarcasm and headed toward the train with Emmeline and Xeno. Because Amelia, Edgar, Nathalia, Cordelia and Elliot were Prefects, they'd have to sit with the other title holders of their appointed years which left Emmeline and Xeno in a compartment by themselves. It wouldn't be such a long ride for Edgar and Elliot as they had someone to talk to. While Amelia got along with Benjy Fenwick and Hufflepuff Prefects Caradoc Dearborn and Charlotte Hutchinson, she wasn't the best of friends with any of them. She had known them all since her entrance at Hogwarts and Benjy was, of course, a member of her own house. Caradoc was someone that she enjoyed the company of and had at one point in time been close with. She assumed that it was going to be a long ride.

Upon entering the sixth year Prefect compartment, Amelia scanned the representative from each house. From Ravenclaw, herself and Benjy. From Hufflepuff, Caradoc and Charlotte. From Gryffindor, Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones. And from Slytherin, Walden MacNair and Alecto Carrow. The Slytherins sat on the right side of the compartment closest to the window and Alecto seemed to be pulling her hangnails out while Walden raised an eyebrow at her actions. Beside them Hestia and Dedalus were arguing over various Quidditch players. On the left closest to the door, Charlotte was immersed in a muggle novel and Caradoc seemed to be asleep. Beside him, Benjy was getting a jump on the Charms material for the upcoming year. Taking a seat beside him and across from Alecto, Amelia leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes as the train jerked out of the station.

* * *

All I Have - The Rocket Summer  
On The Ride - Aly and AJ  
DARE - The Higher


	3. Chapter Two

**Two.**

Amelia had been a Prefect in her fifth year, so she was accustomed to riding to Hogwarts without her best friends by her side, but when she made rounds she was granted a chance to talk to them for a few minutes. However, each time she offered to scan the train, Charlotte, Hestia and Dedalus insisted.

So, instead of playing cards with Emmeline and Xeno, she was stuck watching Alecto Carrow chew the ends of her ratty and seemingly unwashed hair, Walden smooth out his shirt and straighten his tie each time the train jostled, Benjy speed read his way through texts on Charms and Transfiguration, and Caradoc change positions each time he awoke from his short lived naps. She almost wished that Kingsley _would_ come by – at least it would be someone to talk to.

When Hestia and Dedalus came back without the Hufflepuff, Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"Where's Charlotte?" she posed, her eyes moving back and forth between the two Gryffindors.

"No idea." Hestia said shortly, brushing her tasseled hair away from her face.

"Haven't seen her." Dedalus shrugged, a little breathless.

Amelia exchanged looks with the other members of the compartment who seemed to be thinking the same thing in regards to the Gryffindors.

"'Course you wouldn't have. You were too busy snogging." Caradoc said, his eyes half closed.

A curious trait of Gryffindors, they were too proud to be embarrassed so when neither of them flushed in the face or retorted with something witty, no one was surprised. Alecto even stopped pulling the threads out of her skirt to listen in.

"Just the same," Hestia said, "We didn't see her."

"I'll go look for her." Benjy volunteered before Amelia had the chance to.

He stood and reached for the latch when it opened. Most of them assumed the missing party had returned but it wasn't Charlotte. Far from it.

"Sorry, Benj." Kingsley said, stepping aside to let him out. Once Benjy had disappeared, Kingsley took Benjy's vacated seat beside Amelia, flashing him a grin.

"What're you doing in here?" Amelia asked, puzzled.

"It's good to see you, too, Lia." He teased.

"I didn't mean it that way." She corrected. "Shouldn't you be patrolling or something?"

"Andromeda's got it covered." Kingsley said of the Head Girl.

At the mention of the Black sister, Alecto snorted. Andromeda, most knew, went against her family and didn't hold true to their beliefs. An outcast of sorts, she was usually shunned by her own house for her behavior.

"Damn blood-traitor." Alecto sneered.

"That's enough." Walden said to the black haired witch. Of the two Slytherins in the compartment, Amelia reasoned, Walden seemed to be the lesser of two evils; a bit concerned with order and consistency, but hardly as ruthless as his female counterpart.

"Thinks she too good for us. Won't even _eat_ with us. Sits with your lot." She said to Amelia in reference to the Ravenclaw house.

"Piss off, Alecto." Amelia said with a narrow of her eyes and a slight shake of her head.

"What's the problem, _Bones_?" She asked, cocking her head to the side, her green eyes catlike. "_You_ of all people should understand. What is it? Six or seven Pureblood generations in your family?"

"Alecto-" Walden started but she cut him off.

"Shut it, MacNair." She seethed, her eyes still fixed on Amelia. "You're just as bad as she is-"

"Carrow." Kingsley said firmly, his eyes hard. "Another word and I'll see to it that-"

"No surprise that you'd stick up for her, Shacklebolt." She snorted. "Are you the one that's swooning over Miss _Amelia_ here-" Walden quickly covered her mouth with his hand and grabbed her by the arm.

"We're going to do rounds." He explained to the group before whispering to her "This is not the place or the time."

As they exited, it was clear that Alecto was biting him, kicking him in the shin, anything to get him to let go of her. An awkward silence fell over the compartment and Amelia wasn't sure what to say. Alecto was right about her family being Pureblooded for generations and generations but it wasn't intentional. Happenstance, that was all that it was. Even for Edgar and Elliot, Nathalia and Cordelia were from Pureblooded families. It just happened that way.

Kingsley, who had been called out on his feelings for Amelia, looked a little embarrassed, but not enough to avert his eyes from her. Quite the opposite, he was staring, which, in turn, caused her to lock her eyes on the carpet. She didn't fancy having this conversation with Kingsley right now, or any time in the near future. What Amelia most wanted was to sleep for the remainder of the ride.

"Hestia," Dedalus said shortly, "It might be a good idea to look for Benjy and Charlotte."

"Right," Hestia nodded, "Good idea. Caradoc, why don't you come along with us?" The idea the two Gryffindors had was to one, leave Amelia and Kingsley alone to talk things over, and two, to get away from everyone so they could pick up where they had left off.

"No, that's alright." Caradoc said, seeming to have sensed that the Ravenclaw did not want to be left alone with the Head Boy. "I think I'll stick around here."

"But-"

"Don't you have tonsil hockey to play?" Caradoc said to the two, which was enough for them to leave.

Kingsley, who was currently pissed off with Caradoc for his refusal to leave, sighed heavily before standing. Turning to Amelia before he reached that latch of the door, he said,

"I'll see you at dinner, Lia." And with that, he was gone.

After Kingsley disappeared, Amelia let out a heavy sigh that suggested that she had been holding her breath, and this made Caradoc laugh. Turning to him, she pivoted her framed so that she was leaning against the window and stretched her feet out in front of her long-ways as Caradoc did the same thing, his toes touching her own.

"So," he began, a smile tugging at his lips. "Who are you more angry at? Alecto for being a foul loudmouth, or the Gryffindors for trying to 'create a moment?'"

"That depends," she said after a pause, "What are you more impressed with? Your ability to embarrass Hestia and Dedalus or your ability to kick them out of the compartment?"

And for the remainder of the train ride – at least, until both of them fell asleep – they went back forth with a variety of questions. Amelia was thankful to at least have Caradoc, who she always seemed to get along with, share the sixth year Prefect title with her. It meant that when they had progress report meetings with Professor Dumbledore, she would have someone to talk to.

Amelia was sound asleep when the train stopped, and all of the other sixth year Prefects had vacated the compartment to change into their robes and greet the first years. Caradoc had tried to wake Amelia but she rolled over and muttered something along the lines up, 'I'm awake, I just need my eyes to adjust.' And Caradoc took this as a suitable response when he left her.

Though she was being shaken awake gently by a pair of soft hands, Amelia woke with a start, her head moving faster then her body in an effort to figure out what was happening. She scanned the compartment and realized that her joint titleholders had left her. When she turned to see who had graciously offered to wake her, she was surprised, although part of her suggested that she shouldn't have been.

Walden MacNair's sapphire eyes stared down at her, his face apologetic and a little embarrassed.

"Come on, Bones." He said with no particular tone. "The train is about to leave the station. You don't fancy a ride all the way back to London, do you?" he said with a slight smile.

Amelia looked at him curiously, confused. He was a Slytherin; he should leave her on the train and run to tell his friends what he just let happen. Alecto would certainly be proud, Amelia thought bitterly.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she blurted out, still in her sleeplike state. "I mean, why have you _always_ been so nice to me?" When she stood, she still had to look up at him, which made her feel smaller then she already was. Throughout the train ride and even throughout their time at Hogwarts, he had never made a snide remark or laughed at her, something she thought odd. She never complained, but she was curious.

Walden laughed at this, his teeth as straight as his tie and as white as the crisp cotton button down he wore under his robe.

"Why shouldn't I be?" he posed, folding arms across his chest.

His question was quick and she didn't see it coming. She would have expected a response that was more like 'because I have to' or 'Kingsley is outside listening.' For him to offer up a response that suggested that this was the right thing to do was unnerving.

Amelia shrugged lightly with an embarrassed grin and made for the door when he pulled it closed.

"I want an answer."

Amelia sighed before answering, unsure of how to word her thoughts without sounding like a bigoted git. She didn't get along well with Slytherins, any of them. Walden, who had been in nearly all of her classes since they were first years, should have known this. When they were thirteen, Amelia threw a potions bottle at Amycus Carrow for trying to look at her exam answers. Last year she charmed textbooks to whack Patrick Greengrass in the back of the head for asking her if she needed her lips surgically removed from Professor Flitwick's behind. She had gotten into countless arguments with Winifred Kirby over the years ranging from everything to lessons to the war. When Amelia saw anything clothed in green in the halls, her mood fell considerably. Saying that she hated most members of the Slytherin house was a vast understatement.

"Your house doesn't exactly have a reputation for being friendly." She said with a knowing look.

"Neither does yours." He said, without missing a beat.

Walden knew that Amelia was going to say something stereotypical and was ready with a retort. While he couldn't deny that Ravenclaws were among the most good looking and intelligent, the air that they had about made them less so. They flaunted their smarts, even Amelia. They were quick to correct others and make sure that their opinion was heard.

If there were any two houses that were alike, it was Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Both were witty and cunning. Though Ravenclaw was known for their intelligence, Slytherin was a very close second. The major difference was that Slytherins just made their presence known more often.

"Stuck up, pompous, know-it-all arses. That's what Ravenclaws are, right?"

"No!" she said, offended, her jaw dropping. "Not at all! Well, some," she offered, "but not everyone. That's-" she stopped, closing her eyes. "That's your point."

"Exactly." He nodded, dropping his arm from the latch, allowing her to pass. "And," he added as she was about to cross the threshold, "for the record, I've never been nice to you; I treat you like I would any Pureblood." He said matter-of-factly.

"But what about what Alecto said about-" she started.

"Alecto." Walden said as if her name was a complete sentence in and of itself. Running his tongue over his teeth before breaking into a grin, he continued. "You've known her six years now, Bones. You tell me. But as far as I'm concerned, you're okay."

Amelia grinned lightly and nodded, grabbing her robe and saddlebag before departing to the hallway. She didn't know how long she had been asleep but it was evident that all of the other students had already gotten off of the train. Lateness being one of her pet peeves, she quickly threw her robe over her shoulders hoping to conceal the fact that she had yet to change into her uniform. After securing her bag over her shoulder, she flipped open the top and checked to make sure that she had all of her belongings. Stepping onto the lift, Amelia nearly jumped onto the platform, her eyes still fixated on the textbooks and number of quills she had.

Fall had always been her favorite season; the smell of maple, burning leaves and the overall feeling of change. The pavement was slick beneath her shoes, the sound of her steps echoing in the empty station as the train began pulling away.

Her thoughts drifted back to what Walden had said and she thought for a moment that maybe not all of his housemates were as horrible as Alecto. As her mind recounted the words Walden had said and her eyes scanned the inside of her bag, she was oblivious when she collided face first into the stone hard chest of another figure who had turned in her direction at precisely the wrong moment.

Amelia fell to the ground, landing square on her backside, the wetness from the ground soaking through her clothes, her texts spilling out of her bag like water from a faucet. As she raised her gaze, her heart rate sped up and a shiver ran through her bones.

She was not scared of Lucius Malfoy, though she did most certainly didn't go out of her way to cross him. She had heard all of the stories about him; how ruthless, how cruel, how horrible. When she started at Hogwarts, he was one of the first people Edgar had told her to steer clear of. Quickly reaching for her belongings, she shoved them back into her bag carelessly.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I wasn't watching were I was going." Amelia's voice was nonchalant, as though bumping into the head of Slytherin was nothing to be taken too seriously. "Really Lucius-" she started as she brought herself up to her feet, clutching her bag against her chest.

Amelia's apology was cut off. The six foot one blonde placed his index finger to her rapidly moving lips, systematically silencing her. His skin was cold, much like his heart and his eyes bore into her, a piercing grey stare. He had not anticipated speaking to her at all, just casting her a scowl and continuing to walk past her. But her informal use of his name set him off.

"When addressing me," he sad in a velvety voice, a tone that was seductive without trying to be, "you will do so with no name other then 'Malfoy,' even better if you don't address me at all. And the next time you condescend to speak to me in such a manner, I will not be as forgiving." He said matter of factly.

Amelia's eyes darted to his head, to his finger at her lips up to his eyes, which she had to crane her neck to see properly. She had, of course, expected his reaction to be unpleasant, which was why she was a little unnerved. But his tone was uncalled for and she intended to let him know it.

Swiftly pushing his hand aside, Amelia narrowed her dark blue eyes, her lips twisted into a thin line.

"I'm sorry, _Malfoy_," she said, heavy emphasis on his surname, "but your ego takes up so much room that it's difficult for those of us who aren't accustomed to tending to it to realize when we're about to walk into its airspace." She said evenly, her bag now slung across her shoulder, her hands folded across her chest. "What have you got now? A twelve foot range? Miss Black been whispering pretty lines in your ear to add to your vanity?"

Malfoy's face, if possible, turned harder and his lips contorted into a sinister smile, as though he knew something that she did not and planned to use it to his advantage.

"Bones, is it?" he said, her surname sounding strangely foreign on his tongue. "Yes, Edgar's little sister. The phrase is true – the apple really _doesn't _fall far from the tree." He continued, giving her a onceover that made her feel both disgusted and violated.

"Leave my family out of this." She said firmly.

"I've heard about you. Quite a quick tongue you've got. I'd commend you on your bold stature but I don't tolerate wistfulness from anyone." He said sharply. "Especially brats like yourself."

"I suspect your father is an exception, then." She said without hesitation.

Amelia knew more about Arabaxtus Malfoy then one should, thanks in large part to Rita Skeeter. Rita, for a reason none of her housemates could explain, harbored an absurd obsession with the Malfoys mainly because she was under the impression that they had dozens of secrets. For instance, the last two generations consisted of one child per marriage, and both children had been boys. 'It's a good thing their male heir survived,' Rita had said, 'because Merlin knows that years of inbreeding severely damaged their genetic chain.' How she came up with her information and theories, they didn't know. But she seemed too sure of herself for them to question her.

At the mention of his father, Malfoy's eyes narrowed art her remark, livid. His hands formed into angry fists, his knuckles turning a stark white.

"Keep my father's name out of your mouth." He said through clenched teeth, taking a threatening step closer to her.

"Do I detect some hostility between father and son?" she challenged, staring up at him, his frame towering over her with ease.

"You insolent, little-" he began, raising his hand as if to strike her when he was caught off guard by the soft voice of Narcissa Black.

"Lucius?" she called from the far end of the station, making her way toward the arguing students.

Narcissa was tall and elegant, and almost seemed to float rather then walk. Her hair was a corn silk blond and fell around her waist in a flaxen manner. Her eyes were cornflower blue and beneath their hard exterior there was a compassion that one had to search for. Her face was delicate and her features sharp, a combination only one of her confidence could pull off. Nearly every girl in the school envied her, even Amelia, though most wouldn't admit it.

"You're lucky." He breathed, turning away from Amelia and to Narcissa.

"Lucius," Narcissa said cocking her head to the side. "Stop harassing Ravenclaws – they're not worth it."

At her remark, Amelia debated on retorting but held her tongue; she had already wasted too much time arguing with lesser beings.

"Besides," Narcissa continued, "Prefects have to make a good impression." She said knowingly.

"Prefects?" Amelia said in disbelief without realizing it. She could almost understand Narcissa being a Prefect – she hadn't been wholly corrupted by Malfoy and her older sister, Bellatrix. There was still time for her to turn out to be decent human being. Malfoy on the other hand; he was already too far-gone for anyone to bring out any good in him.

"That's right. Lucius and I both." Narcissa stated proudly, though Malfoy rolled his eyes, a bit agitated at the mention of his title.

Amelia knew he had been a Prefect in both his fifth and sixth year because Edgar often mentioned that he missed meetings regularly. She found it odd that he was offered the position again for such disregard of its entailments. Shaking her head with a mocking grin, Amelia looked up at the both of them.

"In that case," she said, pulling her own Prefect badge out of her bag and pinning it loosely on her robe, "we'd all better get going."

"Don't tell me-" Malfoy began.

"I won't." Amelia said cockily. "Here's to not seeing you around." She said brushing past the both of them and hurrying to the boats to catch up with the first years.

Narcissa folded her arms across her chest and watched as Amelia walked off. She turned to Malfoy, whose hands were shoved into his pockets and his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"What did she mean by that?" the girl asked, unsure of whether or not to be offended.

Malfoy looked at Narcissa without answering as he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the castle.

–––––––––––––

When Amelia reached the Black Lake, all of the first years had already piled into the boats and Hagrid informed Amelia that she wasn't needed. Feeling a bit dejected, Amelia turned and headed for the carriages in hopes that she hadn't missed out on those, too. Thankfully, she was able to catch one of the final rides to the castle in a carriage by herself and changed into her uniform along the way. Once she had reached the front doors, she nearly ran into the Great Hall, brushing past the awaiting first years.

In the Great Hall, the sky was lit up with floating candles and a clear night sky much like the one outside. From the entrance, the table on the far left belonged to Slytherin, beside them, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and on the far right, Hufflepuff. Because Edgar was now a seventh year and the self-appointed Head of House, he sat on the end, close to the professors, Nathalia beside him. Kingsley usually sat across from him, but because it was the first feast of the year, the Gryffindor sat with his own housemates, and Amelia aimed to take his vacated position. Beside Amelia, sat Emmeline, who was across from Elliot and Cordelia respectively. Amos, who had taken to sitting with the Ravenclaws during mealtimes late in the previous year, usually took a seat beside Emmeline.

It was clear that the Headmaster was just about to make his opening speech in welcoming everyone back to school and bring the first years in to be sorted. Amelia hurried to the front of the table, trying not to draw too much attention to herself, though it was next to impossible; the hall had fallen silent for the Headmaster and all anyone could hear was the clicking on Amelia's shoes against the stone floor.

Sliding in beside Emmeline, Amelia cast an apologetic look to her professors and turned her eyes on Edgar who grinned at her mockingly.

"Shut it, Edgar." Amelia whispered.

"Uh .. Lia," Emmeline whispered to her friend discretely. "Your shirt is on inside out."

Amelia looked down at her blouse to find that the buttons on her blouse were fastened on the underside of her shirt. Sinking against the table, Amelia ignored it and focused her attention on the first years that were making their way in.

Amelia and Edgar liked to take bets on which eleven year olds would be joining them. The wager was small – whoever lost had to do both of their Charms homework – but it was the sport of it. In years previous, Edgar usually won but Amelia as generally a good sport about it. It gave her a chance to learn new material and be prepared for the following year. Elliot once tried to get in on the game but he lost miserably and his older siblings hardly counted his opinion either way.

There was one occasion when Amelia had won and it was by chance. Edgar had been going on and on about a boy with sandy colored hair and a pale face. 'He just _looks_ smart, Lia.' Edgar had said. Amelia was so aggravated with Edgar's confidence that she up and decided that he was a Gryffindor just to make her brother angry. As it turned out, while Remus Lupin certainly had the intelligence to be a Ravenclaw, he was destined to be a Gryffindor

"Right there," Edgar said, pointing to tall boy with shaggy dark brown hair, "He's definitely a Ravenclaw."

"Hardly." Amelia said with a shake of head. "He wouldn't know a confundus charm from a bat bogey hex." Amelia said with a roll of her eyes. "Now her," Amelia said indicating a girl who stood toward the front of the line, "She looks the part."

"The part?" Edgar said with furrowed eyebrows. "What is this? A casting call? She's a bloody Hufflepuff. Just look at the way she stands! All hunched over and fidgety."

"She's not hunched over." Emmeline said, directing Amelia's attention to a pair of Gryffindor boys who were giggling as the girl tried to shoo away what appeared to be a niffler. "She's terrified."

"James!" Amelia whispered harshly across the row at James Potter and his partner in crime, Sirius Black, who rolled his eyes at Amelia. "The both of you, stop it!"

"Don't lose your skin, Bones." James said easily and charmed the niffler back to him when the Great Hall erupted in applause.

"See! I told you, Lia." Edgar said, giving a high-five to the boy he had been betting on. "Oy! All of you, move down! Todd needs a place to sit." Edgar called, scooting down so Todd Boot could take a seat beside him. "Todd," Edgar said, clapping him on the back, "Welcome to Ravenclaw."

Amelia and Emmeline rolled their eyes as Edgar gave the boy a pep talk about what to expect and what not to expect when the hall erupted in cheers once again for the girl whom Amelia had chosen who was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Make room!" Amelia called to the rest of the table as Lindsay Barstowe sat down. "We're glad to have you, Lindsay." Amelia said encouragingly, casting a look of triumph at Edgar.

Throughout the rest of the feast, neither of them guessed the correct sorting for the first years, though Elliot gave his siblings knowing looks every once in a while as though he was winning his own private game.

Each house reacted similarly when someone was sorted into his or her house. Cheers and applause broke out across the tables and the Heads of House beamed. The Quidditch Captains, who seemed to be the leaders of their respective houses, greeted each new member with a warm grin, even Malfoy, though Amelia hardly paid much attention to the Slytherin table. Her attention was divided among the three remaining houses and she found her eyes darting back and forth between her own table and the one behind her.

Whenever Gryffindor garnered a new house member, Kingsley embraced each one of them warmly and introduced them to everyone within the vicinity. Amelia watched as he seemed to take each nervous and petrified newcomer under his wing and assure them of the new friends they were going to make. As Head Boy, Amelia supposed he was expected to behave this way. But it was effortless. It was who he was and it was endearing.

And unfortunately, Edgar didn't miss it.

"Liiiiia." Edgar said with an annoying drawl. "Is it my imagination or are you _gawking_ at King?"

Edgar's face was that of an excited toddler who had just been granted another chocolate chip cookie or a brand new toy. The arrangement of his sister and best mate was a long time coming and he had hoped that maybe the two would make a connection on their own without too much of his own intervention.

"I don't _gawk_." Amelia protested, turning back to her meal.

"Well whatever it is you _do_," he pressed, "You're _doing_ it at King."

Amelia shot a burning glare at her brother, but was biting back a grin she was sure wouldn't go unnoticed at the same time. She had to admit several things about Kingsley. While he was undeniably good looking, he had a way with people that certainly make him attractive. He was bold and charismatic and kept his friends laughing. The sixteen year old would never admit it aloud but she was reevaluating her decision not to get involved.

"Hey, Lia." Benjy called from down the row. "We ought to get going with this lot, yeah?" he said in reference to showing the first years around.

As sixth year Prefects, the arrangement had been made that she and Benjy would herd the students around like cattle and show them the ins and outs of the school. Edgar and Nathalia – ironically enough - seventh year Prefects, would be tied up in a meeting with the Headmaster on what was expected of them. The fifths year were still getting used to the title and taking on the responsibility of showing them the castle was a bit too much. Instead, the following day, they would take them around the castle grounds.

After the Headmaster had finished bidding goodnight and good luck to the student body, Amelia and Benjy rose and beckoned the new Ravenclaws toward the entrance hall.

The tour itself of the school was boring; where the library was, where the classrooms were located and the most direct route to get there.

"The school's a pretty big place," Amelia said to the wide-eyed students, "But if you ever get lost, there is a way to find your way back to the tower."

"If you notice," Benjy jumped in, "All along the castle walls, there are portraits of famous witches and wizards throughout the ages." He said, indicating several of the portraits on either side of the corridor.

"Those who had been in Ravenclaw," Amelia pointed out, "Are all facing toward the East, the location of Ravenclaw Tower."

"How do we tell East from West?" Lindsay asked curiously.

"The direction of the sun." Benjy said with a nod.

"It rises in the East and sets in the West." Amelia chipped in as they stopped in front of the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower.

"You'll find that while most houses require a password to gain access to the common room and dormitories, Ravenclaw requires the answer to a riddle." Benjy informed them promptly.

"So if another house lets their password slip, anyone can enter. But the riddles change everyday, for everyone."

"And because you're the smartest in the school," Benjy grinned, "You shouldn't have a problem figuring it out."

"For example," Amelia said, turning a wooden door without a handle. Using the Eagle shaped knocker, Amelia rapped on the door twice when the bird chirped and asked, 'It is a slither in the water.' Without hesitation, Amelia replied, "It is a soar in the sky."

Stepping back, Amelia let Benjy lead the students into the common room and was just about to follow when she heard her name on the lips of a deep voice. Turning, Amelia felt her lips break into a grin at the sight of Kingsley.

"Anyone could have figured that out." He said in reference to the riddle, his face bright.

"Which is why you've been to Ravenclaw Tower so many times." Amelia said with a slight smirk.

Kingsley had tried to access Ravenclaw Tower many times before due quarrels over Quidditch schedules or to remind Edgar of a Prefects meeting that had suddenly come up. But he tried to no avail. Each time he thought he had the answer to one of the many riddles; he ended up right back where he started.

Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned her body against the wall, the day's events catching up with her. "I thought you had to meet with the Headmaster."

"I did." Kingsley explained. "But he asked Andromeda and myself to check up on the sixth year Prefects. You know," he shrugged, "Make sure you're doing your job."

"Yeah?" Amelia asked with a grin. "Tell me, am I cut out for a career in tourism, or do I need more practice?" she joked.

"I think you could stand to hone your skills. But you did a better job then Hestia and Dedalus. Merlin," he said with a wide grin, "Everything they said was an innuendo. 'You can find the _entrance _here.' 'Make sure you say the password _nice and slow_ so that it can hear you properly.' The poor first years had no idea what they were talking about."

"Somehow I'm not surprised. They couldn't keep their hands off each other on the train. Neither could Walden and Alecto, now that I think about it." Amelia said with a soft laugh.

"I don't think beating each other counts as any kind of affection or flirting, Lia." Kingsley replied.

Amelia was silent for a moment and kept her eyes focused on Kingsley, who also seemed to run out of things to say. She weighed the pros and cons of the situation in her mind; if she agreed to date Kingsley, she wouldn't be losing anything, not necessarily. She had no problems with the dark skinned Gryffindor and she really couldn't find anything about him unlikable. She wasn't seeing anyone else and had no real intentions of doing so.

If she did start seeing Kingsley, of course, it would turn into something serious. In a nutshell, she was almost agreeing to marry him now. But on the bright side, they would both be in the same line of work, have a stable home together and everyone would be ecstatic with their union. What was the worse that could happen?

"Then why don't you show me what does?" Amelia prompted, offering Kingsley a look that was inviting and understanding.

As much as Kingsley liked Amelia, he didn't quite fashion their first kiss in a dimly lit corridor outside of the Ravenclaw Tower. He would have hoped they might get to know each other first. But in all honestly, they already knew everything about each other. Edgar had done a good job of slipping obscure facts about the other into his conversations. It was hardly subtle, but it was certainly helpful.

Kingsley already knew Amelia's favorite ice cream flavor, what she preferred on her waffles, who her favorite author was, why she liked winter, her biggest pet peeve. Raspberry, powered sugar and Vermont Maple Syrup, Robert Frost, because the snow looked like diamonds, and dishonesty. It was almost as though they had been together all this time and were just getting around to accepting it.

Just the same, it wasn't really fair. Kingsley should woo her and be a gentleman, not put the moves on his best mate's little sister because she was looking at him through those unbelievably blue eyes.

"Lia-" Kingsley began, ready to block his own shot because it was 'the right thing to do.' Sometimes, he hated being a Gryffindor. But before he could explain his reasoning, she cut him off.

"Kingsley." Amelia started. "I know what Edgar's been trying to do and I know you've been going along with it."

"It's not like that-" He began again. He hated for Amelia to think that he was shallow and was only chasing after her because he could. Genuinely, he liked her, and he wanted her to know that.

"Regardless." She interrupted. "I'm starting to think that maybe Edgar wasn't completely wrong." She said, her eyes softer then he had ever seen them.

Kingsley was, indeed, surprised and a little elated. This meant a number of things, one of them being that he was free to spend time with Amelia without feeling like she didn't want him around, because obviously, she did. Now, he wouldn't have to second guess himself if he sat next to her at dinner and all thoughts of 'is this okay?' could be laid to rest. Kingsley opened his mouth to speak when Amelia spoke again.

"And if you tell him I said any of that I promise that I will hex the daylights out of you." She said with a teasing grin.

"Okay." Kingsley said, laughing. "I won't say anything."

Kingsley looked at Amelia in the dimly lit corridor, seeing her in the light he had always wanted to, but had resisted for so long. Her features were soft, and even in the darkness the navy of her irises were impeccable. Her cheekbones were strong and without even trying, she emitted confidence. Without even touching it, her knew the texture of her hair was fine. His eyes warmed over her face, memorizing each detail, because now, he could.

Without the hesitation he had harbored before, Kingsley rubbed his thumb across her cheek, her skin smooth and cool, and the light powder of her foundation against his fingertips. They were not terribly far apart, but it was enough of a distance that Kingsley had to take two steps to close the gap.

With a sweep of her eyelashes, Kingsley placed his lips swiftly against her own, her mouth warm and inviting, perhaps more then it should have been. Regardless, Kingsley inhaled the scent of her, his bottom lip dancing with her own. He was taller then she was and she had to tilt her head upwards to reach him, and he took notice of her nerves. She was small and he let his hands rest on her hips, his fingers curving perfectly around her frame. It was like a puzzle and together they were a sung fit.

Kingsley pulled away after a moment and opened his eyes to find her own blue orbs looking back at him. Her lips were a pale pink, her cheeks flushed - even in the light he could tell - and her eyelashes swept over her eyes, a bit stunned. Her hands rested on his upper arms and she looked at him in a way that she never had before. A way that suggested that he was the only person she wanted to be with. Her hair fell around her face and the navy blue of the ribbon she wore in her hair caught the light, just so, making her even more dreamlike then he remembered.

For Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones was perfect.

Amelia let Kingsley kiss her for two reasons. The first, because she wanted to know what it would feel like. The second, because she had nothing better to do. She was not seeing anyone and did not have any plans on seeing anyone. The harm in dating Kingsley even if she wasn't fully interested was minimal for Amelia. They got along, liked each other well enough and in so many ways, it was bound to happen.

His breath was hot against her and she could smell the cherry scent of his skin. The threads of his tie brushed along her neck and she felt a shiver run through her. She thought for a moment that this was _the feeling_. The feeling one is supposed to get when they find _the one_. After he pulled away to look at her though, she surmised that it was just the texture of his clothing.

The chestnut amber of his eyes made her focus. She knew that she appeared to be enthralled by him, but in reality, she was stunned by the pigment of his eyes. They were beautiful and she immediately felt guilty for thinking that they would look even better on someone she really wanted to be with.

For Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt was substantial.

Amelia offered Kingsley a smile as he disappeared into the darkness. When she traveled to France over the summer, Emmeline had insisted that Amelia read the dozens of broken spine Jane Austen novels that she read time and time again. Amelia had protested, claiming that her academic reading was much more important but Emmeline had insisted.

At first, Amelia was reluctant. She had no interest in the trappings of love – she wasn't meant for that sort of thing. But through Emmeline's persistence of 'this will be your year,' Amelia consumed page after page of Miss Austen's novels. The story of Elinor and Edward in _Sense and Sensibility_ – how she suppressed her adoration for a man that was not meant for her. The blind affection between in _Emma_ between Emma and Knightly, who proposes at the novels end. Amelia frequently slipped herself into the heroine's shoes, creating that face of the mean she'd fallen in love with. She knew that in her heart one day a gentleman with good intentions would steal her own affection. And in her recent conversation with Kingsley, whose own name mirrored that of Knightly, Amelia thought that maybe she had found him. Yes, perhaps that maybe she had. She brushed her hair away from her face along with the fact that Kingsley had not, as Mr. Darcy had done with Elizabeth Bennett, rendered her speechless.

* * *

Shackled - Vertical Horizon


	4. Chapter Three

**Three.**

Amelia returned to the Tower to find Emmeline, Rita and Elliot going on about their business. Rita was hunched over a black and white composition book, her green feather pen clutched in her cramped hand. Elliot sat at one of the many desks folding paper back and forth in an attempt to make a Japanese Origami bird. Emmeline sat in one of the large chairs, her legs draped over the arm, _Pride and Prejudice_ in her hands. Amelia grinned inwardly. Emmeline had wasted no time going through her friend's things in pursuit of one of her most beloved possessions. Amelia sighed. It was good to be home.

The Ravenclaw Common Room reminded Amelia very much of her own room in some respects; Draperies hung beside the windows. The walls were covered from the floor to the ceiling with literature from all of the greats; Dickens, Hugo, Shakespeare, Miller, Thoreau, Dickenson, Cummings, Steinbeck, Plath, Austen (thanks to Emmeline), Nabokov, Harper, Whitman, Capote, Wolf, Poe (whom Edgar's middle name reflected), Elliot (whom Elliot's first name reflected) and various others. Oversized chairs, chaise lounges and couches were scattered throughout the room beneath the dome ceiling painted with stars in the Common Room. The arched windows offered an amazing view of mountains surrounding the castle and Amelia frequently positioned her desk so that she might take in the landscape.

Taking a seat at one of the far desks, Amelia took out a scroll of parchment and began outlining her Charms homework. Even though class had yet to begin, Amelia wanted to get a head start on her assignments. That, and Professor Flitwick prided himself on giving a leg up to students in his own house. He regularly sent assignments out to Ravenclaws in advance – mainly because he knew other heads of house did the same favoritism, even Minerva McGonnagal but also because he liked to know the members of his house on a more personal level.

Having taught both Adelina and Ethan and Ethan's mother and father, Professor Flitwick liked to think that he knew the Bones' well. He had known Amelia and her brothers since they were born and had been expecting their arrival into his house for years. It was not unusual for the tiny teacher to have lengthy conversations with the Bones' children regarding their studies, families, futures, ect. It was fairly common.

Finally, looking up from the novel she had read so many times before, Emmeline noticed Amelia, whose scratching against the parchment finally caught her attention. Stretching her arms above her head, Emmeline blinked her eyes and tossed her book onto the coffee table.

"Where've you been?" she mumbled, swinging her legs to the front of the chair. "Benjy came in long before you did."

Amelia looked up, surprised. Benjy had obviously neglected to inform the rest of the Ravenclaws of Amelia's whereabouts. She should not have been too shocked – Benjy was usually too wrapped up in his own matters. But Edgar, the overprotective soul that he was, would have pressed for a location, a return time and whom, if anyone, she were with. Elliot, on the other hand, didn't keep tabs on his sister, which she preferred and it was exemplified by his vacant acknowledgement of her arrival. Amelia smiled quietly. She would have to remember to thank Benjy for keeping her under the radar.

"I was touring first years with Benjy when Kingsley caught up with me." She shrugged, setting her quill down.

"Kingsley?" Emmeline said with a devilish smirk. "Kingsley as in Edgar and Amos' best mate and the Gryffindor? Kingsley as in 'Emmeline-he's-staring-at-me-again-please-make-him-stop?' Kingsley as in Kingsley-"

"Say Kingsley one more time and I might not even tell you what happened." Amelia said tossing Emmeline a playful look.

"Okay, okay." Emmeline said with a nod. "So, what happened?"

"Well," Amelia said, running her chestnuts locks between her fingers, "We were just talking about different things and then…" she paused, unsure of how to casually drop into the conversation that she was now most probably his steady date.

"Then what?" Emmeline asked, her eyes wide and searching Amelia's face for any kind of answer.

"I told him that maybe Edgar had a method to his madness and that maybe he wasn't entirely wrong." Amelia said slowly.

"And?" Emmeline pressed.

"He kissed me, alright." Amelia said reluctantly, though her cheeks had lit up like a Christmas tree.

Emmeline let out a gasp and jumped off the chair, nearly sprinting the short distance to where Amelia sat. Gripping Amelia's sides she grinned like The Joker.

"Lia! He _kissed _you!" Emmeline nearly yelled which caused Elliot to look up from his paper birds. Getting to his feet, he walked to where the two girls, stood, hands in pockets. He looked more and more like Edgar every day, Amelia thought fondly.

"Who kissed her?" he asked, a grin tugging at his cheek.

"You know who, Elliot." Amelia said giving him a pointed look.

"I do not." The youngest Bones child said with a slight shake of his head.

"_Kingsley_ did!" Emmeline said, almost all of her teeth visible.

Amelia felt a deep blush creep into her cheeks and it was for one of two reasons. One, because she really did like Kingsley and was embarrassed to have it known aloud. Or two, because she was embarrassed to be giving into what was expected. Somehow, she was leaning toward the latter. Either way, it was bound to get back to Edgar quickly. She was almost positive that Kingsley had rushed to tell the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain the good news. Elliot, at the breaking news, grinned sheepishly and offered his older sister a nod. Pulling her into a soft and gentle hug, he said,

"Good for you, Lia. He's one of the good ones."

"Thanks, Elliot." Amelia said into the coat of her brother's jacket.

"Just remember," Elliot said jokingly as Amelia pulled back, "If he makes the wrong move, he'll have two Bones men to deal with."

Amelia grinned affectionately at her younger brother's sentiments when he kissed her on the cheek and bid the two girls goodnight. He had just closed the door that led to the boy's dormitory when Emmeline pulled Amelia to sit beside her on the couch.

"So," Emmeline began, "When do you plan on telling Edgar that you and Kingsley are … for lack of better term, hitting the sheets?"

"Emmeline Vance!" Amelia said with a grin. "You have a filthy mind. Do you say things like that about famous Amos?"

"Would you stop calling him that? I only wish that Kingsley rhymed with something clever." Emmeline said tapping her chin in thought as if going through a list of possible names.

"Don't even think on it." Amelia said shaking her head as Emmeline laughed.

"So." Emmeline said, cocking her head to the side. "You really like him, then?"

If there was one person in the world that Amelia refused to lie to, it was Emmeline. They knew everything about each other, the good and the bad. Emmeline chastised Amelia whenever she was being snobbish, which was fairly often. Amelia pointed out when Emmeline harped on a subject too long without hesitation. It was that honest friendship that kept them together.

Did Amelia really like Kingsley?

"I like him. But I'm not in love with him." Amelia explained tentatively. "I know a lot about him, I like his company, he makes me laugh but … it's not …"

"Passionate." Emmeline said with an understanding nod. "I know, I know." Emmeline bit her lip before asking her next question. She didn't want to offend Amelia, though it was hardly possible given their history together. "Do you feel like your using him, at all? I mean, do you feel bad … about it?"

Amelia knew this inquiry was coming. She had thought about the prospect of it a dozen times herself. _Was_ she using him? _Did_ she feel bad? She wasn't going to lose sleep over it, but she wasn't expecting to be awarded for something.

"Um … I'm not particularly pleased. I … Kingsley is my friend and I care about him. I think," Amelia hesitated, holding a pillow to her chest, "I think that given time, we'll grow closer."

"But you have to get to that point." Emmeline nodded.

"Yeah. I mean," Amelia considered, "He's the only person that I can think of that I'd ever feel anything for. He's known me as long as you have. There's no one else I can picture myself with. It just fits, I suppose." Amelia said with a shrug.

"Good." Emmeline said with a nod.

Before Amelia had a chance to change the topic, Edgar threw the door open and walked across the threshold at a slower than usual pace. Amelia and Emmeline exchanged curious looks when Edgar straightened his tie. He folded his arms across his chest and gave Amelia a pointed look. She resisted the urge to groan.

"Emmeline," Edgar said, his eyes still trained on his sister, "Tell me that you're proud of me."

"I'm proud of you, Edgar." Emmeline said enthusiastically.

"Do you know why you're proud of me?" Edgar posed, gesturing into the air. When Emmeline didn't answer and merely giggled, Edgar continued, his poker straight teeth peeking out from beneath his lips. "Because I have changed lives! I have singlehandedly set into motion a love that will change lives. Just picture it," he said, looking off into space, "a young, charismatic wizard meets a young, brilliant witch. They're shy with each other, but affectionate. They know everything about the other, down to the very detail. The wizard is taken, but unsure. The witch is aware, but too nervous. With, and only with, the help of her too-kind brother does the young witch make her reciprocated feelings known. And then, with a kiss," Edgar said casting a sideways look at his sister, "it erupts, sending passion and romance into the air for the years to come. That, Emmeline Vance," Edgar said, his hands on his hips, "Is why you are proud of me."

Emmeline doubled over in laughter at Edgar's display and Amelia had to let a grin peak from beneath her lips. A little exaggerated but true for the most part. Amelia got to her feet, and rolled her eyes.

"If all the world is a stage, I guess that makes you the director." Amelia said teasingly.

"I'll take that as a thank you." He said with a nod. "I knew you'd end up together."

"Please, Edgar." Amelia said with a playful shake of her head. "We're dating, not getting marri-" Amelia began when Edgar clapped his hand over her mouth.

"Don't jinx it!" He protested quickly before releasing her. "I expect to be the godfather of your firstborn."

"I'm not the mother type." Amelia said with a shrug.

"Oh, please." Edgar said dismissively. "You and Kingsley will end up together in the end and you know it."

Edgar patted his little sister on the shoulder lightly. Edgar was always so sure of himself, so planned. It was admirable, Amelia gave him that, but it was so structured. She herself like consistency but his ideas were a bit much. When he turned toward the boys dormitories Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"Where're you going?"

"To sleep. Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow; gotta get some rest y'know? And Emmeline," he added, "Tell, what do you call him, Lia? Famous Amos?"

"Thanks, Lia." Emmeline muttered as Amelia grinned.

"Tell him that he'd better not expend his energy with his own tryouts. Those puffies won't know what hit them this year." Amelia cast her brother a 'we've all heard that before' look. "Don't give me that look, Lia. Jeremy Gilbert* had a keen eye and Rebecca Jamison broke up with that Gryffindor chaser, Wilson Locke. Something tells me she wants revenge." He said wiggling his eyebrows, continuing on his way.

"Using someone's spiteful tendencies to fulfill your own wishes is immoral, Edgar!" Amelia called after him.

"As a Quidditch player, I live by no such rule!" Edgar said as he closed the door.

Amelia turned to Emmeline and shrugged her shoulders. Emmeline laughed and ran a tired hand through her chestnut colored locks. Though she was shy, Emmeline was gorgeous. She had a classic natural beauty that radiated and she was far too modest. Stretching, the girl let out a yawn.

"Tired?" Amelia offered, collecting her books and quills.

"Just a bit. I'm really not looking forward to double Potions tomorrow. The first day of classes and we get stuck in the dungeons." Emmeline said it as though it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"I know, I know. Better get a good night's sleep then." Amelia said leading the way to their own dormitory.

"I actually think it'd be a better idea to stay up all night and catch a few zzz's in class tomorrow." Emmeline teased.

Amelia grinned at her best friend's humor. She had missed the easiness that came with their friendship. All of the most important events that had occurred in Amelia's short sixteen years, Emmeline had been present for and vice versa. When Amelia looked at Emmeline, she didn't see her friend from school, she saw a soul mate, someone who would be in her life forever. There was hardly a dream that Amelia had about her future that did not include Emmeline. They were both on the career path to becoming Aurors, they would probably live within close vicinity, and they would raise their children together if they had any. It was hard for Amelia to picture anything remotely important without Emmeline. She hoped that she would never have to.

* * *

*I swear I had this name before I even saw the Vampire Diaries. Kevin Williamson and I must share a brain.


	5. Chapter Four

**Four.**

The first two weeks had gone by quickly. Professors wasted no time assigning projects and essays to students. Elliot's OWL and Edgar's NEWT preparation had already begun stressing the male Bones children out. It usually wasn't until late November when they started pulling all-nighters. Clearly, it was going to be an interesting year.

Emmeline spent much of her time with Amos, who insisted she accompany him to Romania during the winter holidays to meet with scouting Quidditch teams. She told him that she would ask her parents which really meant that she would ask Mrs. Bones, who at this point, was who she was residing with during the winter holidays.

The other houses were back to their usual antics. The Gryffindors were, once again, involving themselves with unnecessary conflict. One said rivalry was between third years James Potter and Severus Snape. In one week alone Benjy and Amelia had broken up three confrontations between them.

Speaking of Slytherins, besides the aforementioned, they had been keeping a low profile. In accepting her position as Prefect, Amelia had anticipated stepping on their emerald toes. But no such misfortune had fallen across her path – unless she counted her bickering with Malfoy two weeks earlier.

The extent of her duties included taking charge of confrontational situations, reporting any incidents of misconduct back to Professor Flitwick and patrolling the corridors in the immediate area of the Ravenclaw Tower on her designated nights. Lucky for Amelia, that meant spending her stolen time in the Library, which was in said area. The previous year, as Amelia had spent nearly all of her free time in the library studying for OWLs, she begged Madame Prince to keep the library open all night. To which the librarian replied, 'then when would I get any sleep?' Feeling sorry for the almond-eyed scholar, Madame Prince finally figured out a way to make everyone happy by February. With permission from the Headmaster, Madame Prince offered Amelia the keys to the library each night promptly at ten. The Ravenclaw was to let no one, not even her parents know, about her granted gift. Madame Prince would leave the library, appearing to have locked the doors while Amelia sat hunched over a book on Advanced Charms, hell-bent on memorizing every charm known to wizard-kind.

This year with a bit of persuasion, Amelia was granted the same gift. 'But you don't have large scale exams this year.' Madame Prince had said. 'That's no reason not to prepare!' Amelia had protested. 'Just because you're not playing in a Quidditch match is no reason not to practice.'

And so, on a Thursday evening at nine thirty, Amelia sat working diligently on her Charms Essay, 'What I Know About Charms This Far.' Professor Flitwick had given his students, of all years, the same assignment. He assigned the same prompt every year. He claimed hat it gave him a better understanding of what ground to cover in his classes. So far, Amelia's paper was thirteen pages and she was just wrapping up her section on fourth year material.

Dipping her quill in her inkwell once again, Amelia glanced briefly at the shelf of books adjacent from where she sat. She stopped and had to look again, nearly dropping her quill. She would, unfortunately, recognize those features anywhere. Lucius Malfoy stood between a row of book shelves and through the various holes and crevices between books, he appeared to be looking at her. A moment of panic would have set in had she not heard Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be standing in front of Malfoy – not that she could see him. She sighed, thankful that the barely three-feet tall Professor was there. At the squeaky voice, Malfoy's eyes darted back down to the teacher. Just the same, Amelia looked back down at her paper. Her ears, however, could not help but perk up at the conversation between the two men.

"Mr. Malfoy," the Charms Professor said in his high pitched voice, "this is a serious matter!"

"I understand that, sir." Malfoy said, somewhat reluctantly.

"Do you? Do you really? Are you aware that your failure to pass my Charms class automatically makes you a poor candidate for passing NEWTs? Not only that, but you passed your OWLs by the skin of your teeth!" the teacher stressed. "The only reason that I gave you Advanced Placement this year was because your father," Malfoy seemingly grimaced at the word, "promised me you'd make up the lost work twofold."

"Yes, sir." He replied, almost habitually.

"Have you looked at any of the workbooks that I sent to Wiltshire over the holiday?"

"Of course." Malfoy nodded. Of course he looked at them; right before tossing them into the fireplace.

"Really?" Professor Flitwick said with mild skepticism. Malfoy had hardly done any schoolwork during the semester – doing it over the summer was quite a stretch. "Have you given any thought to getting a tutor? I suggested it last year, you know."

"Yes, sir, I have." Malfoy nodded. He knew that he needed assistance in his studies – help was not a word that he was particularly fond of. But he was limited in terms of his resources – another fact he did not want to admit. His housemates and friends were all on the negative side of the grading scale and those that weren't were too busy trying to get their Dark Mark. Truth be told, they would only make matters worse. The rest of the students in his year did either one of two things; they shied away from him out of fear or they held their nose up in snobbery. It didn't faze him. He liked being feared. And, the thought with a grim smile, when the others thought they were better than him, he laughed. If only they knew what lie ahead in the awaiting years.

The reason he had fallen so far behind was not due to his laziness. He was actually highly intelligent and was in the top percentage of his class at one point. The last year, though, he had been very busy – too tired from other activities to even begin thinking about schoolwork. He grasped the material, just not the time.

Over the past few years, he and his family had been paid several visits by a certain dark wizard. He called himself Lord Voldemort and said that He had a plan to make not only the Wizarding World, but the entire world a better place for Purebloods. The Malfoys took to the idea almost instantly. They believed in purity through and through – it was almost an obsession. The previous year, He had begun gathering followers – a wizard army. Among his circle – Death Eaters, as they came to be known – were the Lestrange family, the Black family, the Rosiers, MacNairs and the Dark Lord's most loyal court, the Malfoys.

During his sixth year, Malfoy was being looked on as Voldemort's second in command, something his longtime friend, Bellatrix, resented him for to this very day. He had the talent, the ambition, everything that was required. All he had to do was prove it. Running risky errands, targeting Blood Traitors were his simpler tasks. Among the most complex were keeping the Slytherins at Hogwarts in line and finding himself, more for his parents than for his leader, a wife.

His father insisted on Bellatrix Black for the longest time. She was a favorite of the Dark Lord and had talent beyond compare for the Dark Arts. Together, they could dominate. But Malfoy had declined. Secretly, he thought one would have to be barking mad to feel anything in the area of romantic interest for the eldest Black sister.

He preferred someone more delicate, more soft spoke and much more of a challenge. Bellatrix's younger sister, Narcissa, fit said profile to a tee. She was beautiful, a Black daughter, and most important, Pureblooded. He had sparked her interest easily. Having been a bachelor for far too long and having played the field more times than he could remember, he made her and offer and, of course, she accepted. What more could she ask for? He had everything she needed to be happy in life. It would have been foolish to say no.

Everything was going according to plan. Everything except his schoolwork. Last year, his tasks had been so daunting he had all but forgotten about his studies. A mistake he was now paying for.

"You'll be pleased to know," Malfoy said happily and convincingly, "that I have gotten someone to assist me. Highly recommended and really looking forward to the challenge."

"Good." Professor Flitwick nodded. "Who is it?"

"Excuse me?" Malfoy said, a little caught off guard. He hadn't anticipated a question of who it was that was helping him – just that the issue had been addressed should have been enough.

"I should like to meet them." He nodded. "Give them some material to go over with you that will be helpful. Now, who did you say it was?"

"That's not really important, now is it, Professor?" Malfoy stalled. "Surely you'll want to protect their privacy. My word is good. I can assure you." He said, flashing a charming smile.

"Your word, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Flitwick said with his arms folded across his chest, "is about as good as a nightfall charm in the trappings of Devil's Snare."

"I don't understand." Malfoy said with a shake of his head.

"Of course not. If you had come to class, you might take my playful insult to heart. I need a name." he pressed.

Malfoy rarely broke into a panic. He was calm in most situations, mainly because he could talk himself out of anything. He had managed to talk Professor Slughorn into giving him extra time on assignments. He had even pulled the wool over Professor McGonagall's eyes – no easy feat – by crafting a story about his father's faux illness and how he was needed at home and that a Transfiguration essay could surely wait a few days in the scheme of things.

However, he had lied to Professor Flitwick enough and time was running out.

"A name, Mr. Malfoy." He said, his voice suddenly stern.

He needed someone intelligent, of course, with whom he had no real problem with in the past. They couldn't be too close to him, lest the blow his cover. Someone cunning enough to play along. Someone he could offer something in return.

"She's right over there." Malfoy said, nodding toward Amelia.

Amelia froze, able to feel both pairs of eyes on her. She kept her head down, pretending to be in deep and concentrated thought. Surely Malfoy was out of his mind.

"Amelia?" Professor Flitwick said, more to himself than anyone else and he and Malfoy fell into the brunette's peripheral vision.

"Yes?" Amelia and Malfoy said in unison. Her to the calling of her name, him for verification.

Professor Flitwick cast a skeptic glance at Malfoy just before focusing his eyes on one of his most prized students. Running through the facts that Malfoy had just provided him with, he straightened up and offered a smile.

"Amelia." He said again, more pleasantly this time. "Mr. Malfoy here had been telling me about your plans together."

"He has, has he?" Amelia said lightly, raising an eyebrow for effect. "All good, I hope."

"So far." He nodded, his beard sweeping the ground. "I just wanted to make sure that you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Professor, please." Malfoy said quickly. "You wouldn't want to berate her with questions-"

"Mr. Malfoy." Professor Flitwick said gently. "Please. Let Miss Bones speak for herself."

"Yes, sir." Malfoy knew exactly what the Professor was trying to do. He wanted to trip the Ravenclaw up and catch him in the act. He kept his stare on the girl, hoping his demand was conveyed.

"Amelia?" Professor Flitwick prompted.

Amelia cast a look to both men, deciding which path to chose. She knew that telling the truth was best – it was always best. If there was one thing that she hated, it was lying. However, there was the chance that she could help him pass. It was slim but it was there. But who was she kidding. She, a sixth year, was not adept to teach him, a seventh year.

Closing her book shut, Amelia stood up, straightening out the cuffs on her blouse. Feeling much like Robert Frost, her favorite muggle poet, she took the road less traveled.

"Well Professor," She began, her voice clear and sharp, "I understand that Mr. Malfoy's performance in your class has been less than satisfactory in the past. While he has reminded me time and time again that he is determined to get back on track, I feel that nothing less than intense study sessions should be conducted. He has potential, as you know. It's just a matter of unlocking it." She finished, sliding a glace at Malfoy who, beneath his placid exterior, was shocked at the believability of her performance.

"As I've told you." Malfoy said, taking a step beside Amelia, putting his arm comfortably on her shoulder. "My word is good."

Professor Flitwick raised his eyebrows in both curiosity and relief. Malfoy was known to be elaborate in his dedication – so much so that when he wound up bust, even the most respectable professors were dumbfounded. The idea of his partnership with Amelia could very well be another tall tale. However, Amelia was one of his best and most talented students. To question her character would mean questioning his trust in her – which stood solid.

"Very well. I trust that you'll use only the most advanced of texts." He nodded.

"Nothing less." Amelia said firmly.

"Have him up to his required standard, Miss Bones, and you may find yourself a candidate for Head Girl next year." He said with a wink as Amelia's lips broke out into a grin. "Weekly reports on my desk each Friday. Stop by my office tomorrow after class and we'll talk more. If you have any questions, you know where to find me." He said shortly, leaving Amelia and Malfoy to themselves, his arm still on her shoulder.

"Bravo, Bones." Malfoy whispered into her ear when the Charms professor was out of both eye and earshot.

Amelia quickly shoved Malfoy away from her, causing him to stumble but only slightly.

"Give me one good reason not to tell Professor Flitwick that you put me up to this." Amelia said, gathering her things.

Straightening his tie and jacket from where she had touched him, Malfoy cleared his throat.

"I had no idea you harbored such strength in that little body of yours." He said condescendingly.

"And I had no idea that you possessed such little knowledge in that dome of yours." She retorted calmly, fastening the clasp of her bag. "I have half a mind to tell him that you put me under a spell to agree to this but judging by your intellectual state, you wouldn't know how to do so anyway."

"Touché." Malfoy said with a smirk.

Amelia did not know Malfoy well but she was not stupid and neither was he. She knew for herself that he was one of the smartest in his year whether or not his grades reflected it. Whatever he had done in the last two years – which she suspected had something to do with the Dark Lord – had landed him in serious trouble. She didn't want details, but she did want a good reason for volunteering all her time.

"Stop avoiding the questions. It's unbecoming." Amelia said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Come off it, Bones. Your affection for me is undeniable. You just itching to spend copious amounts of time me with." Malfoy said, leaning against the desk her belongings were sitting on.

"Right." Amelia nodded weakly. "And after that I think I'll swallow glass."

"You're going to make this all kinds of interesting aren't you?" Malfoy cooed.

"Not if you don't tell me why I'm doing this in the first place." Amelia said just as smoothly, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Why can't you just be flattered that I've chosen you for all of this?" Malfoy said with a light shrug.

"Okay then." Amelia said, turning to walk away. She would not play petty games with him. If he wanted her help, then he would be upfront and honest. Otherwise, he could find another puppet to play with.

"Wait, wait." Malfoy said, grabbing her by the arm to stop her.

"Please, don't touch me." Amelia said, jerking her arm back into her airspace.

Malfoy's face looked heavy. His face wasn't exactly gaunt but he looked much older than his seventeen years should have suggested. He looked stressed, pained almost. There were faint bags under his eyes and his hair was slightly tasseled. He ran a hand over his face before touching her elbow lightly.

"Bones," he began slowly, "I don't have many options right now-"

"That's not my problem. I didn't spend the two most important years of my career as a student doing Merlin knows what with Merlin knows who." She said in a harsh whisper.

"I do not need this right now." Malfoy muttered under his breath.

"There are a lot of things you don't need right now. A certain marking being one of them-"

Malfoy automatically clapped his hand over her mouth out of habit. When anyone in his house, his friends or otherwise, mentioned anything about the Dark Lord, it was his instinct to keep them quiet. For a moment, he forgot that Amelia was not one of his housemates; the banter they exchanged was so familiar, almost eerie. He pulled his hand back just as quickly and offered an apologetic look. Amelia, who was both offended and concerned, looked at him patiently.

"I want an answer."

He let out a heavy sigh and mulled over how to best determine that he required her help because he was too busy spending all of his time aiding in the destruction of the Wizard World. Perhaps that was not the best way to word it. He was too proud most days and did not like admitting his own failures, even though she was clearly aware of them. Amelia turned to leave again and just like before, he took hold of her but this time he didn't let go.

"I need you." was all he said.

Amelia herself was a person of pride and she saw how much it took for him to admit that he needed help. She supposed that he did have enough to worry about with the added insults from her. Then again, why should she be making excuses for his poor decisions?

Amelia took a deep breath before ripping her arm away from him. She smoothed out her skirt and blouse and tucked her hair behind her ears. She closed her eyes before replying,

"Three hours each day, five on the weekends. You'll schedule Quidditch and all other activities around these times. You fail to show up once and I'm finished, no exceptions." She opened her eyes to find Malfoy who looked relieved. He tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Don't make me regret this."

Malfoy said nothing and watched as she adjusted the strap on her satchel. In the silence, Amelia looked at the boy – well, man – closely for the first time. He was tall and strong and reminded her in several ways of her own brother. He was commanding and he had a presence. But he was also arrogant and selfish and she wondered why she was bestowing such a kind act on someone who only thought about himself. Then again, her reasons for helping him were, in part, fueled by Professor Flitwick's mention of Head Girl.

"I won't." he said with a nod.

For a moment, Amelia remembered the boy's words to Professor Flitwick; _my word is good._ She hoped so.

Before Amelia could make an excuse to exit or set up a time to meet with him the following day, she heard arguing back and forth in the far corner of the library. She and Malfoy both looked in the direction of the noise. Realizing that it was her two favorite third years, James and Severus, Amelia let out a giant huff and threw her bag down on the table. She marched to where they stood and grabbed James by his cloak.

"Honestly. The two of you can't even go a day without starting something." She said pulling him to where Malfoy stood.

"Oy! Lia!" James said in protest using her nickname, something, she learned, he did to try and get on her good side. "It's not my fault this time! Honest!"

"James." Amelia said pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

"Well, it wasn't." The spectacled boy said, folding his arms across his chest. He cast a look at Malfoy and snorted. "Blimey! You've got detention with her too?"

Malfoy's lips cracked something that, in the right light, might resemble a smile. He looked at James, then to Amelia, then back to James before answering.

"Something like that."

Amelia rolled her eyes and turned back to James, about to award him another week's worth of detention when she heard someone mutter something that she immediately recognized as a jinx. Instinctively, she grabbed James and pushed him in back of her to protect him. But before she could make any action to protect herself, she felt hands treating her the same way she had treated James. There was hardly any light emitted from the spell but she did hear something that sounded an awful lot like a grunt right next to her ear. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she held onto James shoulders to keep him from moving.

When she opened her eyes, she felt Malfoy's cheek next to her own. He stood in back of her, his arms around her own. A sort of panic set in and Amelia wondered if the spell had come from his very own lips. Then she remembered Severus who must have cast the spell. And Malfoy blocked it with his body.

"Uhm." She said, clearing her throat, focusing on James. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." James said, pulling away from her, eager to get a good look at his enemy.

Amelia held onto James' cloak and slowly turned to see that Malfoy had Severus by the collar of his shirt and appeared to be chastising him. She had almost forgotten that he himself was a Prefect. With James in hand, Amelia walked to where the two Slytherins stood.

"… and if you ever, _ever_ aim another spell, hex or jinx in her direction I will snap your wand in two. Do you understand me?" Malfoy said, oblivious to the fact that Amelia and James were in earshot. He said 'her', Amelia thought to herself. He definitely said 'her'.

Malfoy turned toward Amelia and James when he had finished and straightened up.

"I think a week's worth of detention should do it." Malfoy said with a nod, casting a threatening look at Severus.

"I planned on taking them to the Headmaster." Amelia said carefully.

"Even better." Malfoy stepped aside so that they might pass.

Standing as a wedge between the two boys, Amelia nodded and turned toward the exit. She briefly wondered what she was getting herself in to. She had heard awful things about Malfoy and his involvement with the war. She knew how he treated her brother, her friends, people in general. There was nothing to respect about someone like that. But, she reasoned, maybe he wasn't all bad. No, she thought. She would not turn this into one of those situations where she felt bad for him because of his rotten circumstances. She would not let herself.

"Bones." Malfoy said before she walked out of eyesight. "What time am I to meet you?"

His face was sincere and he stood like he was listening. She closed her eyes for a moment in thought. She had said three hours every day. Merlin, why did she make it so long?

"After dinner. Here. In the library." Amelia managed to say without too much difficulty.

"I will see you then."

Amelia nodded and pushed the boys ahead of her, swatting at their hands every few moments when they tried to hit each other.

There were a lot of things Amelia knew about. She could levitate objects well into the air and above her head. She could transfigure cats into footstools. She could mix potions that could prevent fatigue. But she had no plan, no idea on how to even begin helping Malfoy. Uncertainty was a new concept to her and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling of it.

* * *

Here We Are - Breaking Benjamin


	6. Chapter Five

**Five.**

For Edgar, Elliot and Emmeline, Friday nights had always meant one thing; spending time with their other half in various parts of the castle. Edgar and Nathalia at the deserted Quidditch Pitch, Elliot and Cordelia in the Great Hall and Emmeline and Amos in courtyard in the southern part of the castle.

Now that Amelia had another half – in the loosest sense of the term – she was expected to take part in the Friday night ritual. In all of her sixteen years, dating was not a situation she saw herself in. She barely had time to get used to seeing Kingsley in the corridors knowing how he really felt much less get used to the idea of spending time alone with him. She had only kissed one other boy besides Kingsley and it was when she was thirteen. She and Caradoc Dearborn had gone to Hogsmeade with several of their friends. By happenstance, they found themselves alone. It was mid November and had already begun to snow. They were standing in the center of the shops and Amelia was remarking on how much she enjoyed Caradoc's company when he leaned in and kissed her. It was quick and soft and she had never forgotten it. Most had assumed that when he had kissed her they were surely dating but nothing had changed. The year after they started to drift apart; she grew more dedicated to her studies and his mom had had another baby who he became inseparable with. They were still good friends, they just didn't see each other that way.

Nevertheless, when Kingsley caught up with Amelia after her last class had ended and asked her if she'd like to meet at about seven o'clock, she politely declined, using the same excuse she had given Malfoy, who was nothing short of thrilled when she told him it would be a better idea to start their sessions on Monday. She claimed that she had other affairs to attend to, which was hardly a lie.

Friday nights for Amelia belonged to Xeno. While the rest of the Ravenclaw House gallivanted around Hogwarts looking for a good place to snog, she and Xeno spent much of the night going over essays and correcting each others work. Amelia felt a sort of dedication to Xeno. She was one of the only real friends he had, with the exception of Emmeline.

And so, by the well stoked fireplace, Amelia and Xeno sat crossed legged, various sheets of parchment sprawled out around them, ink wells scattered about the room. Neither had bothered to change out of their uniform though Amelia had shed her blazer and Xeno had loosened his tie.

"What about this one?" Xeno asked curiously, holding up a piece of parchment, indicating a small section in the middle of the page.

"Hmm." Amelia said, taking the paper from him, reading over the highlighted paragraph. "Well," she said after a moment, "you're talking about a troll here. It wouldn't really be fair to compare a hideous beast like that to a dwarf." She said gently. Xeno was highly dedicated to his work, and while he valued opinions, especially Amelia's, he had a tendency to be protective and defensive.

"Why?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, for starters, it would be offensive to dwarfs."

"How so?"

"I don't think they would want to be compared to an ugly troll." She said with a small smile.

"I still don't understand." He said, shaking his head.

"Alright." She sighed, reaching for his extensive research on dwarfs. "Here you said; 'In the folklore of Germany and Scandinavia, dwarfs are a race of small supernatural beings who guard magnificent treasures buried deep inside the Earth. Although they have powers that enable themselves to seem invisible, they usually look like small men with large heads, widened faces, long grey beards and misshapen legs and feet.'" Amelia set the essay down and reached for the other paper on trolls. "And here you say; 'In addition to their gigantic size, a troll's most prominent feature is their long crooked noses. But other features cannot be forgotten, such as busy tails, flat feet, shortage of fingers and toes (they only have three or four on each hand) and the shaggy mossy growth that covers their heads.'" Amelia finished, while turning to face Xeno, whose facial expression had not changed.

"I'm sorry, Lia, but I still don't see what you're getting at."

"You wrote that dwarfs are magical creatures and then you wrote that trolls are ugly monsters. Now you're comparing them. You don't find that the least bit offensive?"

"Trolls can't read, Lia. If you'd skip ahead to the eight page you would see that they're not very intelligent." He said proudly.

"Not offensive to the trolls!" she laughed. "The dwarfs! I'm fairly positive that being categorized as something hairy and repulsive would strike a nerve."

"But that's not my intent."

"But that's how it looks. I'm not saying that your facts aren't correct, because they are, but you might want to be a little more objective."

Xeno looked at Amelia considering her words. He valued her opinion above all others. She knew him best and knew exactly what to say to make him see a different point of view.

"I don't understand your logic, but we can work on it, I s'ppose." He said in agreement.

"Brilliant." Amelia grinned.

At the entrance to the common room, laughter could be heard; the boyish chuckle of Elliot, the soft giggle of Emmeline and the booming jeer of Edgar. It was followed by an immediate silence. They were saying their goodbyes. Amos was, of course, going back to his own common room. Nathalia and Cordelia were accustomed to paying a visit to the library after their evening antics – it was a sort of routine. The two were best friends ever since they discovered their common interest – the Bones brothers. It was expected of them to retire to bed a few minutes after the library closed.

Edgar often wondered why Amelia never joined them – they were as good as family. Both Nathalia and Cordelia extended invitations to Amelia but she politely told them to go on without her. It wasn't that she didn't like them. Quite the contrary, she thought they were beautiful, intelligent girls and knew they were well suited for her brothers. She just enjoyed her privacy. And she already had a best friend to spill all of her secrets to.

As expected, Edgar, Elliot and Emmeline walked through the door, all smiles. Emmeline sat down beside Amelia, smiling over at Xeno who tensed up at the sight of Edgar. It was out of habit. Xeno knew that Edgar was under the impression that he had feelings for Amelia. It wasn't true in the sense that Edgar suspected it, but Xeno was still careful not to give Edgar a reason to be upset with him. Edgar however, was not concerned with it. Xeno was not a part of the plan.

"You're back earlier then we expected." Amelia said, looking up at her brothers.

"Quidditch game tomorrow, Lia. You've got to keep up with current events." Edgar said, shaking his head.

"Right, nevermind the war. Quidditch is far too important." Amelia said sarcastically. "That's your excuse. What about you two?" Amelia directed at Elliot and Emmeline.

"Amos is going to the game." Emmeline shrugged.

"But it's against Slytherin." Amelia said quizzically, having remembered Malfoy mentioning something about it.

"Bravo!" Edgar beamed while Amelia rolled her eyes. "You pay attention after all."

"He's going to watch." Emmeline said, leafing through Xeno's papers.

"You see, Lia," Edgar said, sitting on the arm of the couch, gesturing with his hands, "Some people, they respect their friends interests and cheer them on in their pursuits."

"And some people don't know how to quit when they're ahead." Amelia retorted calmly, turning to Elliot. "What's your excuse?"

"I may not be on the team," Elliot said, "but I do plan on supervising."

"Supervising?" Amelia questioned.

"Of course. Can't let the team down, can I? Suppose Ed here gets hurt. Who do you think they're going to turn to? The relation of a Bones. Leadership is in the blood."

"I'm not sure if you're forgotten," Amelia said with a grin, "but we do share some of the same DNA. You know, the three of us."

"But Lia, in a state of panic, a Y chromosome will be required." He explained jokingly.

"Pardon me?" Amelia said, exchanging a look with Emmeline, who gave a sort of 'I'm staying out of this' look.

"It's a fact, Lia. Women are notorious for their states of shock. Their system goes numbs and shuts down. They don't handle pressure well. Two X chromosomes are dangerous." Elliot said, looking at Edgar for support. Edgar bowed his head, hiding his laughter.

"If it wasn't for the two X chromosomes, men would not have an existence. But it's clearly wasted if that's the common logic you possess." She retorted.

"White flag." Elliot said, grinning.

The youngest Bones child was known to push buttons and keep his siblings on their toes, but he enjoyed banter much more with Amelia than Edgar. It was particularly easy to agitate her as she enjoyed a good debate. Elliot would frequently take an opposing side just to infuriate his sister, even though she always won. She was too stubborn to give in – on anything.

"How Cordelia stands you, I'll never know." Amelia laughed, shaking her head.

"I'll be sure to send a Migraine Draft as a wedding gift." Edgar said, clapping Elliot on the shoulder.

"You're just a big ol' bag of laughs, you lot." Elliot said ruefully.

"So, what's this you two are working on?" Emmeline asked Amelia and Xeno, holding up one of the pages of Xeno's essay.

"Emmeline, boys," Amelia said to seriously, "how do you feel about trolls and dwarfs?"

–––––––––––––

The following morning, Edgar had taken it upon himself to wake everyone in the Ravenclaw Tower at an uncalled for hour. He wanted everyone to be at the game and even offered to lend out his banners to anyone who wanted to put forth some extra Ravenclaw spirit. He was all business when it came down to his favorite sport. He had a right to be – he was an exceptional Keeper, and as team captain, he had a team to hold together. Lucky for him though, he got on well with the other team captains – Amos and Kingsley. Two out of the three wasn't bad – no one would miss Malfoy anyway.

At breakfast, the Ravenclaw table was more populated than usual. Several of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor players lent their support. Even if they didn't particularly like the Ravenclaw Team, it was better then the Slytherins winning. Edgar sat at the head of the table, going over strategies, Nathalia beside him. Elliot and Cordelia were close to the conversation as were Emmeline and Amos, who offered some of his own opinions on how to beat out the Slytherins. Kingsley listened next to Amos, Amelia on the other side of him reading the Daily Prophet. Another muggle attack in London.

"Alright, then." Edgar said, checking his watch, "we'd better get going – you'll want good seats."

The players and most others stood up along with Edgar. Elliot rose to, causing Cordelia to ask in a very girl-friendly manner,

"Where're you going?"

"The pitch." He explained.

"You don't play." Cordelia said, confused.

"Sure he does," Amelia said, folding her paper in half, "but whether or not he plays well is to be determined."

"Shush." Elliot said in Amelia's direction. "I've got to lend moral support."

"Moral support?" Kingsley asked laughing.

"Of course." Elliot said flashing a grin at his irritated sister. "Bones boys-"

"Think too much with their groin and not enough with their head." Amelia said, setting her paper down on the table. "The only reason men invented – yes, I did my research, Quidditch _was_ invented by you heathens – the sport was to impress upon the female sex how well they can fly. But I for one don't by it. Showing off on a broomstick only makes you look stupid. Try intellectual impression." She suggested.

"Giving up on Quidditch anytime soon, King?" Amos teased the Gryffindor while Emmeline pinched his arm.

"What about the girls that play?" Elliot posed with a smirk.

"Kudos to them for breaking the mold. And I'm not saying that anyone should give it up," she clarified, "but I don't think broadening ones horizons while firmly planted on the ground could hurt."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Amelia Bones." Elliot said to the onlookers who offered a soft applause, to which Amelia rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her tea.

As most of the Great Hall emptied to make their way down to the pitch, Kingsley remained seated next to Amelia and stared at her a moment before asking,

"Lia, you were a bit hard on him, don't you think?"

"Concerned for my baby brother?" she teased. Looking up at Kingsley, she shrugged. "It's just how we communicate. He says whatever he can, no matter how moronic just to get a rise out of me."

"So why do you bother responding?" he inquired.

"I like being right all the time." She shrugged.

"Are you right all the time?" he said, his voice low, seductive.

"Yes." She said simply before standing, tucking her newspaper under her arm, heading for the exit.

"Wait, Lia." Kingsley said, jumping to his feet. "I'm on my way down to the pitch, too. Why don't you come down."

"I don't know. I've got a lot of work to catch up on." By work, she meant brushing up on material to go over with Malfoy – it would probably take the better half of the day.

"Please, Lia." He said, his big brown eyes deep. "You can sit with me, right along side Emmeline, Amos, Elliot, Cordelia, the whole gang."

Normally, Amelia would have said 'no' still. She couldn't be bothered by Quidditch and she certainly did not care where she sat. But then she remembered dismissing him the night before. For the past two weeks, besides mealtimes, she had barely spent any time with him. They hadn't even properly kissed with the exception of the first time and small pecks each morning. Sighing, Amelia said,

"Alright. Lets go."

"Brilliant." Kingsley beamed, wrapping an arm around her waist, leading the way.

The Quidditch stands were packed and full to the brim of blue and green. It was clear that Ravenclaw was supported well; Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had festooned themselves with the Ravenclaw house colors, if anything, just to spite the Slytherins. Amelia and Kingsley said beside Elliot and Emmeline, as planned, in the front row. About six people down, Amelia saw Rita, who looked down her pointy nose at the newer players, who were already nervous enough. Rita took great pleasure in her ability to intimidate.

The game had just begun and Amelia spotted Edgar soaring high in the air, calling out commands to his fellow teammates; namely, a fifth year boy who had just made the team as a beater two weeks earlier.

"Tonks!" Edgar shouted. "Grip it tighter! If you can't hold it right, you're never going to hit the bludger!"

"Poor kid." Emmeline whispered.

"Edgar's right though." Elliot observed. "If he wants to play, he's got to do it right. Edgar won't hesitate to kick him off the team."

"What was his name?" Amelia asked, not having heard Edgar.

"It's Ted." Emmeline informed her. "You know. Always chasing after Andromeda Black."

"Oh, right!" Amelia said absently. "Why does he even bother?"

"Are you mad?" Elliot exclaimed. "The Black sisters are undeniably the most-"

"Ahem." Cordelia said, who was sitting just behind him alongside Nathalia.

"Repulsive creatures in this school! Why he wants _her_ I'll never know." Elliot mended to which Cordelia flashed a satisfactory grin.

Ravenclaws were said to be the most handsome students in the school. And they were. The only problem was their snobbery made them a bit standoffish. And, with the exceptions of Amelia, Emmeline and Ted Tonks, they only dated within their house. Slytherins, on the other hand, were more alluring. Their outer beauty mystified most and gave many pause. Had they not attained a reputation for maliciousness and deception they would have been adored by all.

Andromeda Black, the middle Black sister, was the only member of the family, besides her cousin, Sirius Black, who possessed some sort of humanity. Which was why, of course, Ted Tonks proceeded to chase after her. But it was unthinkable. She would most likely marry Rabastan Lestrange, brother of Rodolphus whom her older sister, Bellatrix had married a year before. Besides, a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin was just not heard of.

"Come on, Tonks! Concentrate!" Edgar yelled across the pitch.

"He's only doing it to impress Andromeda." Cordelia sighed. "Merlin, he's terrible. He can't even hit straight."

"He knows she's watching." Nathalia chimed in. "He's just nervous."

"Did I not just say this at breakfast?" Amelia said. "He's only trying to make himself appear more manly and it's not working. She doesn't want him anyway – it's a lost cause."

"But isn't it romantic?" Cordelia sighed.

"Cordelia," Emmeline said, turning in her seat, "the boy is flailing around like a bloody seagull. How in Merlin's name is that romantic?"

"But he's doing it for her." Nathalia added.

"It doesn't matter. If the feeling is not mutual, then there is no reason to go on pretending. She doesn't care what he does-"

Amelia was cut short when Ted Tonks finally managed to hit a bludger – straight toward the stands. Oblivious to the game, Amelia had no time to duck and was knocked from the stands. The other players from both teams heard her screaming almost instantly. Terrified that she would fall to her death, Amelia squeezed her eyes shut tight. Kingsley had no time to think as he watched her fall. Emmeline buried her head in Amos' chest, praying that her friend would be okay. Edgar turned his broom in her direction, ready to fly to her rescue when his mouth, along with everyone else's, fell open.

Someone had caught her, but she didn't know who. His arms were strong and supported her weight. She seemed to fit the curve of his body. His body temperature was cool, she noticed, and buried her head into his neck. He smiled of a peculiar mix – rain and peppermint. Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, but did not fall. Slowly opening them, she met the stone, grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

A silence fell over the field as the students took in the scene. The Ravenclaws in the air touched down on the ground – Ted stayed off to the side, averting his eyes from Edgar, who clenched his fists, waiting for the Slytherin to put his sister down.

Kingsley however, wasted no time running to the scene. Completely caught up in worry for Amelia, he rushed to her aid.

"Falling for me, Bones?" Malfoy whispered only loud enough for Amelia to hear.

He set her down on the ground, only mere inches from her when the frantic Gryffindor enveloped her in a hug.

"Lia," he breathed into her hair. Placing one hand on either side of her face, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Amelia said with a quick nod, her stomach lurching. She had just been in the hands of Malfoy. _Malfoy_. Of all people, he had to be the one to catch her. "Just a nasty fall is all."

"You scared me half to death." He sighed.

Edgar finally made his way over to where everyone had gathered; Emmeline, Elliot, Amos, Cordelia, Nathalia, Caradoc and dozens of others. Edgar placed a kiss atop his sister's head, hugging her tightly.

"Thank Merlin you're alright, Lia." He said, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm really, sorry, Lia." Ted Tonks said from behind.

"We'll talk later." Edgar said firmly to the boy, who hugged his broom quietly. Turning to Malfoy, Edgar extended his hand and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

Malfoy looked at Edgar and then to Amelia. His eyes were cool and it was impossible to read his expression for any kind of emotion. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. Malfoy took Edgar's hand and gave it a firm pump.

"My pleasure." He said honestly.

Satisfied with the Slytherin's answer, Edgar turned back to his friends and family. Kingsley had wrapped his arm around Amelia protectively and they began making their way back to the stands.

Kingsley's arms were around her but all Amelia could feel were Malfoy's eyes.


	7. Chapter Six

**Six.**

Normally weekends at Hogwarts rolled by slowly. Fridays turned into Saturdays and faded into Sundays. And then it was time to begin the process all over again. The past weekend, however, had been slightly different. After Amelia's timely tumble, Edgar, Elliot, Emmeline and Kingsley constantly fawned over her as if she were broken china. She had asked time and time again for them to leave her be, that she was perfectly fine, but they all insisted she get rest and take it easy. Of all of her friends, Xeno was the only one who listened.

Despite her best efforts, Amelia found herself confined to the Ravenclaw common room among her friends who worked diligently on their schoolwork. Amelia had already finished hers but had yet to start on her lessons for her meetings with Malfoy. She tried to make up excuses in order to receive permission to go to the library to gather information. But Edgar refused to let her out of his sight. "You're still shaken, Lia." He had said. "We can't take any chances."

To make matters worse, Elliot had brilliantly suggested that Kingsley spend the evening with the Ravenclaws and keep his girlfriend company. Amelia resisted the urge to punch him in the face. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him. She just had other obligations to attend to. How professional, she thought, would she look, showing up to the library empty handed. But she digressed. Kingsley was her boyfriend, and she had to get used to that.

"Alright." Kingsley said, carrying a stack of various board games in his arm, setting them onto the table while he made himself comfortable beside Amelia. "We have Wizard Chess, Trivial Charms; How Much Do You Know About Your Favorite Subject?, Guess That Potion!, and, my personal favorite, One Hundred and One Tea Leaves That Will Change Your Life." He said, flashing a bright smile.

"Tough choice." She mused, looking over the selection. "Board games are not my forte, Kingsley."

"No problem." He said happily, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind her. "We could always talk." He suggested.

"About what?" she asked curiously, folding her hands in her lap, hoping that the subject matter would not get too heavy.

"Us." He said plainly, threading his fingers through hers.

Amelia had expected him to say something along those lines. They hadn't discussed their relationship since it had begun. There wasn't anything to discuss, really. They were an item, a couple, and all sorts of odd names that caused Amelia to feel cliché. Casting a look at Emmeline, Amelia asked a silent favor. Immediately understanding her friend's meaning, Emmeline rose to her feet.

"It's a but late." She said stretching. "We should probably head to bed, yes?" Emmeline cast looks of the same favor to Nathalia and Cordelia who, as girls who frequently used codes and facial expressions to explain themselves, understood the sentiment.

"Yes." Cordelia agreed.

"It had been a long day." Nathalia nodded. "C'mon Edgar, let's go."

"I really have to finish this, Thalia." Edgar said, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah." Elliot added, indicating his papers. "Delia, I just want to get this done."

"But these papers aren't due until next week." Cordelia said in reference to the scattered papers.

"You go on ahead." Edgar said, waving his hand.

"Edgar." Nathalia said sternly, nodding her head in the direction of Amelia and Kingsley.

Almost instantly, Edgar understood what his girlfriend meant. Tapping Elliot on the shoulder, the two retired to boys' dormitory. Likewise, Cordelia and Nathalia headed for the girls' dormitory. Emmeline flashed a thumb's up at her friend when the Gryffindor wasn't looking. Amelia rolled her eyes and returned the grin.

Once Emmeline had departed, the common room was empty, save Amelia and Kingsley. For what Amelia felt ashamed to admit was the first time, she took the time to really look at Kingsley's features. The caramel of his skin tone and how it complimented the flecks of honey in his amber eyes. His hair was teased into the air, the dark strands falling in tight curls around his face. His jawbone was strong and his lips curved into a soft smile. Amelia grinned lightly, tracing his fingers with her own.

"What?" he asked, wondering if something was wrong. Kingsley would never deny his flirtatious past – in fact, for a period of time, he was quite proud of it. He had the affection and attention of at least three girls at a time and he loved every moment of it. He wouldn't trade it for anything. But over the course of his sixth year, he had decided that it was important to find someone to foster a relationship with.

Of course it was cliché – his best friend's sister. But Amelia was his match. Everyone he asked thought so – especially Edgar. The Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain nearly did cartwheels when Kingsley expressed interest in Amelia. However, she also intimidated him. She was independent, headstrong, and very outspoken – all attractive qualities to Kingsley. But it made for a tough approach. Kingsley was almost about ready to give up when Edgar suggested that he spend some time at the Bones' home over the summer holiday, and not just to play Quidditch. 'Break bread with my family!' Edgar has said, but of course, he had meant something along the lines of, 'Chat up Lia.' During said break, though, Kingsley learned something very important about Amelia Bones.

She did not shy away from him. From what he had seen over the years, if she crossed the path of someone wearing something other than blue, she could not be bothered. But she was different with Kingsley. He knew that it could very well have been because he was Edgar's best mate, but it was also a window of opportunity. It was exactly why he decided to approach her on the train nearly three weeks ago. He intended to have a relationship with Amelia Bones and the feeling seemed mutual. He was not in love with her, but he hoped that one day he would be.

"Nothing." Amelia said, shaking her head.

Kingsley looked at the face he had almost memorized. How her bottom lashes swept the navy of her eyes, the way her nose wrinkled when she felt flushed or nervous, how her cupid's bow lips parted into an 'o' shape. He knew every detail.

"So," Amelia said, resting her head on the back of the velvet couch, "how exactly did you get into Ravenclaw Tower?"

"Well," he said charmingly, "I would say that a little bird let me in, but an eagle is hardly a small bird." He said as Amelia laughed and tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Of course. I should have known." She said, rolling her eyes. "But honestly, as a Prefect I should really escort you back to your end of the castle." She said in mock seriousness.

"Amelia Bones breaking the rules? On my account? Should I feel honored?" Kingsley said putting his hand over his heart playfully.

"I don't neglect my duties for just anyone, you know."

"Well then, I should revel in this once in a lifetime moment." Kingsley stated with a nod.

"Are you going to keep dodging my question?"

"Not at all. I was hoping that you'd make more of an effort to pin me down to get what you wanted." He grinned, winking.

"It's really not all _that_ important." She said, raising her eyebrows.

"Edgar let me in." he explained. "Said that it'd be good for all of us to spend some time together."

"My brother, the family man." Amelia rolled her eyes.

Kingsley mulled over the word 'family' in his mind. 'Yes' he would have liked to say, 'he wanted to get the whole family together.' But he resisted. It was far too early for that sort of talk.

"He's a good man."

"Yes." Amelia agreed. "My parents raised my brother's well."

"Hey," Kingsley said brushing her hair away from her eyes, "They didn't exactly fail with you."

"Such a gentleman." Amelia said sweetly under the touch of his fingertips.

Grinning softly, Amelia unconsciously shifted in her seat inadvertently moving closer to Kingsley. At the change in position, Kingsley felt a little bolder and moved his arm from the couch to her shoulder. Amelia did not object.

"So, you wanted to talk about us. Unless there is something strange and incestuous going on that I'm not aware of, Edgar is not a part of us." Amelia joked.

"Lia." Kingsley said shaking his head, "Your logic fascinates me."

"Thanks, I guess." Amelia said uncertainly.

"No, no. I mean, you just have such a … different way of working things around in your head. It's entertaining." Kingsley mended.

"Good. And hey," Amelia added, "Don't think that you're going to skirt your way around this one. Answer the question this time."

"Refresh my memory."

"Kingsley!" Amelia giggled, lightly shoving him but keeping their fingers intertwined.

"Alright." He sighed with a smile. "I was just trying to buy a little time to figure out what would be the best way to ask you for a proper date." He shrugged.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt." Amelia decided. "You are the most discursive man that I have ever met."

"Should I be offended by that?"

"No, not at all." Amelia said shaking her head. "At least, not in this situation."

Kingsley looked at Amelia, waiting in anticipation for her answer. But it seemed that she had no intentions of making it easy.

"You little hypocrite." He joked. "You tell me to stop ignoring questions and here you are, leaving me hanging."

"I beg your pardon? I am most certainly not a hypocrite."

"Oh, no?"

"No, not at all."

"Alright." He grinned.

"Yes, right. I was simply weighing my options. The pros and cons." She said innocently.

"You're something else." He said, shaking his head. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Of course. I would love to go out on a date with you." She said cheerfully.

Without even thinking, Kingsley lifted his hand to the side of her cheek, running his thumb along her jawbone.

"I suppose I'll have to make this date unforgettable." He smiled.

"That should be easy." She said, wrapping her fingers around his hand. "You have a tendency to make all moments unforgettable."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

"No, not at all." Amelia said with a grin

Kingsley gazed at Amelia with soft eyes and a young passion. The Ravenclaw returned the look with expectance, as if she knew it was supposed to be this way. Leaning in closer, Amelia closed her eyes, feeling Kingsley's breath drawing nearer. Breathing in the scent of him, Amelia was reminded of cinnamon and smoke. Likewise, Kingsley inhaled the too familiar fragrance of Amelia; ivory and spring. Just inches from each other, Kingsley cupped her face in his hands, appreciating her beauty. It was Amelia, however, who closed the gap, surprising both herself and Kingsley.

His lips were warm and inviting, a comfort she would revel in. The kiss was light, soft. If she would ever wholly love him she didn't know. She did know, however, that she felt comfortable with Kingsley, and would no longer pass up on the opportunity to be with him.

–––––––––––––

The only good thing about Mondays for Amelia was that Emmeline was in each of her classes – Transfiguration, Double Charms and Potions. By the time that Kingsley had left the night before, Emmeline had already been asleep, which meant Amelia had to wait on girlish gossip until the following morning. The only thing that made this particular Monday loathsome was that she had her first meeting with Malfoy in the library at seven, a mere ten hours away, and she still had nothing to teach with.

"You certainly went to bed late." Emmeline grinned as she fell into step beside Amelia on the way to breakfast.

"How would you know?" Amelia asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I tried to wait up for you, but when the clock chimed at eleven thirty, I gave up." Emmeline declared. "So what happened?"

"Nothing." Amelia shrugged. "We were just talking."

"Amelia." Emmeline said sternly.

"Emmeline." Amelia said with the same tone, trying to conceal her grin.

Emmeline searched Amelia's face for a sort of guilt – anything that would give her answers to her best friend's moonlit antics. When Amelia finally couldn't hold back her smile any longer, Emmeline gripped her friend's arm.

"I knew it! Amelia Bones, I knew it!" Emmeline cheered.

"I hate you." Amelia managed to say through her laughter.

"Why do you hate Emmeline?" Edgar said, Elliot, Nathalia and Cordelia on either side of him.

"Emmeline, you shut your mouth-" Amelia began.

"I have absolutely no idea." Emmeline said innocently.

"Could this have anything to do with-" Cordelia started.

"Of course." Nathalia nodded.

"How do you know?" Cordelia asked.

"Just look at her." Emmeline stated plainly.

All five Ravenclaws looked at Amelia, who tried to keep her lips pursed together, but failed miserably, which was what caused the females of the group to nod with a collective 'oh.' Elliot and Edgar, however, exchanged looks of concern.

"Lia?" Edgar began. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah." Elliot continued. "You look a bit off."

At the males' reaction, the girls burst into laughter. They clearly had no idea what was going on. Emmeline had one said that 'men were completely ignorant when surrounded by women.' Something about their brain not functioning properly if they were surrounded by more estrogen then testosterone.

"Would someone tell us what's going on?" Edgar said, feeling left out.

"Ask your sister." Emmeline said, folding her arms across her chest, nodding to the bright eyed brunette.

All eyes were once again on Amelia and she felt highly uncomfortable discussing the circumstances of the previous night with her brothers. With the exception of Emmeline, whom she told everything, she kept personal matters to herself. It was just how she felt it should be. But they were waiting for an answer and in all honesty, she was quite proud to say that she had done more than just study with a member of the opposite sex.

"Okay." She sighed, grinning. "Last night . . . with Kingsley." She began, Edgar and Elliot looking noticeably uncomfortable. "We . . . he thought my head was a lollipop."

Laughter erupted from the group, revelation falling over the Bones boys.

"Is that all? Merlin, you had me scared to death." Edgar chuckled. "Well, good for you. When I see Kingsley I'll have to give him a pat on the back." He said before departing, Nathalia, Elliot and Cordelia in tow.

Amelia raised her eyebrows in confusion at her brother's statement. Pointing at her old brother, she remarked to Emmeline,

"Don't you find it the least be bit strange that he's so jolly about all this?"

"He's happy for you, Lia." Emmeline shrugged.

"Happy is one thing, but I'm starting to get worried that he's going lock Kingsley and myself in a chamber and tell us that we can't come out until we've procreated."

"Amelia!" Emmeline exclaimed. "That's horrible!"

"I know." Amelia agreed.

"He just thought you waited a little too long in the whole 'dating game,' that's all." Emmeline said simply.

"You're lucky Amos hunted you down last year or you'd be on the chopping block, too." Amelia joked.

"Oh, c'mon. You're exaggerating a bit, aren't you?"

"Emmeline." Amelia said tonelessly, resting her hand on Emmeline's shoulder. "I pray you never know that pain."

At breakfast, the Ravenclaws, plus Kingsley and Amos gathered to indulge in a meal of fluffy pancakes, German and Ukrainian sausage, apple and orange juice and, Amelia's personal favorite, toast with strawberry spread. The table was with filled with light chatter. Even Rita Skeeter seemed to be in an uncommonly good mood – she sat at the far end of the table, hunched over her notebook, a broad smile on her face as she nibbled on a piece of toast.

"All I'm saying," Amos said loudly, "is that it's anyone's game this year."

"C'mon, mate." Kingsley argued. "Your logic is fair, I'll admit but think about what you're saying. 'Hufflepuff wins the House Cup' just doesn't sound proper."

"Neither does Gryffindor." Edgar said, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"At this rate, Slytherin will win it." Amelia whispered to Emmeline.

"What?" The three captains all said in unison.

"I'm sorry, but while you're spending all your time arguing, Malfoy is a shoe in for the win." Amelia explained.

"She has a point." Emmeline said to Amos.

"This is not arguing." Edgar said in his own defense. "This is strategizing."

"Really?" Amelia said, not expecting an answer as she exchanged glances with Emmeline. Gathering her books and taking a final sip of apple juice, Amelia rose from her seat as Emmeline did the same. "Let me know how that works out for you. In the meantime, we have to get to Transfiguration."

"We could walk you." Kingsley offered, Amos nodding at his side.

"That's alright. We'll see you at lunch." Emmeline said.

Emmeline kissed Amos lightly on the cheek before elbowing Amelia discreetly to give Kingsley the same kind of favor. Amelia was never found of public displays of affection but that was in part because she could never take part in it. Now that she had the opportunity to engage in such behavior, taking it in was becoming increasingly easier.

"So." Emmeline said as the two girls made their way to Gryffindor Tower. "Are the rumors true?"

"What rumors?" Amelia asked, slightly confused. When one inquired about secrets and scandals, they were usually seeking out Hogwarts resident bigmouth – Rita Skeeter.

"About Kingsley."

"Oh, right." Amelia nodded. Because Kingsley had flaunted his romances in the past, many 'legends' about him also etched themselves into the halls and ears of students. Thus far, he had been hailed as 'the best snog a girl could receive,' 'faster than the Golden Snitch,' and a 'remarkable lover.' It only now occurred to Amelia that she would be stamping fact or fiction on said rumors due to the fact that the females who spread the aforementioned rumors only did so to put their own name on display; namely Griselda Marchbanks and Bertha Jorkins, both Gryffindors.

"Well?" Emmeline insisted.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say." Amelia hesitated.

"Okay," Emmeline said pausing, "Then answer me this; did you spend half he night snogging him?"

"Yes . . . but that doesn't necessarily mean that I enjoyed it."

"Lia." Emmeline grinned. "What else could it mean?"

"That I was being polite?" Amelia offered when Emmeline erupted into laughter. "It's not like I really have anything to compare it to."

"What about Caradoc?" Emmeline questioned.

"That doesn't count. We kissed a few times. It was different. So," Amelia said, turning back to the topic of Kingsley, "How am I supposed to know if it was any good?"

"Would you do it again?" the Ravenclaw asked bluntly. When Amelia's cheeks flushed with pink, Emmeline grinned. "Then I have my answer."

"What about Amos?"

"What about him?"

"I dunno." Amelia said sheepishly. "I just wonder what the differences are."

"Would you like to swap beau's and find out?" Emmeline teased.

"No!" Amelia said quickly.

"Well would you look at that. You're _protective_ of Kingsley."

"No, I'm not. That's just a terrible idea." Amelia corrected.

"Don't worry. I have no intentions of stealing him. Amos may not be a world renowned kisser, but I like him just fine."

"You're terrible, Emme." Amelia said, shaking her head, laughing at her friend as she remembered the jokes they had throughout the years. Now that Amelia thought about it, she considered Emmeline as more of a sister than anything else. Speaking of which, Amelia thought to ask, "So, have you heard from your parents?" By 'parents,' Amelia actually mean Elizabeth Vance.

"No." Emmeline said quietly, shaking her head. "But I'm expecting something within the next few days. My dad is supposed to go to New Castle tomorrow night." A glimpse of solace could be seen in Emmeline's eyes. Her father's trips away from home meant only one thing – peace for Emmeline and her mother, even if it was only temporary.

"That's great, Emme. You'll have to tell me the second you hear from her." Amelia said hopefully. "My mum would love to stop by. It's been ages since she's been to your house."

"Yeah." Emmeline agreed. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

When it came time to talk about her parents, Emmeline was uneasy. Of course, she confided in Amelia, but it was hard to talk about. To see the wonderful family her best friend came from was hard to take in. Amelia's parents were Hogwarts sweethearts and had known each other for almost all of their lives. Amelia was wealthy; though Amelia did her best not to flaunt it, Emmeline could never compare with the lavish birthday and Christmas gifts her friend presented her with. It wasn't intentional, but it made Emmeline feel ten times smaller. Nevertheless, she trusted Amelia and only Amelia with her darkest secrets.

"I've been meaning to tell you," Emmeline said suddenly. "Amos wants me to spend the winter holiday with him." Emmeline's face brightened up at the idea.

"Really? That's great!" Amelia said, happy to see the ever-present excitement on her friend's face.

"Yeah." Emmeline said quietly. "I'm – I'm going to tell him no."

"What?" Amelia asked puzzled. "Why? I would have thought you wanted to spend time with him."

"No, no, I do. But," she shrugged, "I'd rather spend time with you."

"Really, Emme, you don't have to do that-"

"I know. But I want to." She said softly. "I'd chose my best friend before any boy." Emmeline concluded with a sheepish grin.

Deeply flattered by her friends sentiments, Amelia enveloped Emmeline in a hug.

"Me, too, Emme." Amelia said, briefly looking the girl in the eye before embracing her again. "Me, too."

When classes had ceased for the day, Amelia hurried to the library to find as many books as she could on the subject of Charms. Deciding that Malfoy couldn't have fallen too far behind, most of the material she chose was for fifth years and above. She distinctly remembered the small professor mentioning that the Slytherin's O.W.L. scores were low. That, she assumed, would be the safest place to start.

By the time she finished her amateur preparations, it was five o'clock and dinner was being served. Madame Prince had already left for the evening so she couldn't leave the material in her care. Sally Pederson, a seventh year Hufflepuff, took over for the librarian in the meantime. Amelia hardly trusted her; Sally lusted after Amos, like most Hufflepuff girls did, for years and resented Emmeline for having caught his eye. Sally was notorious for making snide remarks at Emmeline and even Amelia. If she left the books with her, Amelia could almost guarantee they would be put back on the shelves when she returned. It was too much to drag all of the material to Ravenclaw Tower only to retrieve it and bring it back to the library. The only option was to bring it to dinner. Thankfully, she had brought books to dinner with her before so it wouldn't raise suspicion. However, the ever-observant Elliot was in rare form and had curious habits of a five year old.

"Why do you have so many books?"

"I have an essay due." Amelia replied calmly.

"On what?"

"It's a wide subject range."

"Why didn't you leave them with Madame Prince?"

"She wasn't there."

"Why is it all OWL material?"

"I need information from years past."

"Couldn't Madame Prince help you narrow it down?"

"Like I said, she wasn't there."

"Well, where'd she go?"

"Bloody hell!" Amelia said, exasperated. "I'll fill a missing person's report in the morning!"

Quickly shutting his mouth, Elliot fixed his eyes to his plate and seemed too preoccupied with his peas to answer Cordelia's whispered, 'why did you do that?'

"Are you alright?" Kingsley asked Amelia, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

"Yeah. I'm just a little stressed out

"You sure? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no. It's alright, really. You know, I think I'm going to head up to the library now. Just to get all of this done – or started, at least." She said, standing.

"But you've hardly eaten." Kingsley objected.

"I'm not really that hungry, honestly." She mended as she gathered her books in her arms.

"At least let me help you." Kingsley offered.

"No, really, Kingsley. You stay here and finish dinner. Don't rush on my account. I'll just . . . see you tomorrow." She said, kissing him lightly on the cheek before departing through the doors of the Great Hall.

The trek to the library wasn't far, but with nearly twenty pounds of books in her arms, the journey was a bit tiresome. From the Great Hall, she climbed three flights of stairs and walked the full length of five corridors. Rounding the final corner, Amelia spotted her destination and a wave of relief washed over her. That is, until a large figure stepped out from the alcove, blocking her path. She would have walked around him had he not been the very person she had set out to meet.

"Malfoy." She said, somewhat startled.

"We have to talk." He said firmly.

"Alright . . . but it'll have to wait until I can put these books down in-"

"We're not going to the library." He declared.

"Pardon me?" she said, confused. "I thought we agreed-"

"Change of plans."

"Why are you waiting until _now_ to tell me this?" she said indignant under the weight of the texts.

"Your weekend was eventful. I hardly had a chance to get a word in without your public displays of clumsiness, and late night shags with Shacklebolt." He said with a grim smile.

"Bravo, Malfoy. That's the most I think I've ever heard you say at one time. You didn't use _all_ your brain cells stringing that one together, did you?"

"If we weren't in a public place I'd have half a mind to slap you clear across that smug face of yours." He said through gritted teeth.

"It's good to know that you'd stoop to the level of hitting a lady."

"First of all, you're hardly a lady. Second, gender aside, you're still beneath me."

Amelia glared at Malfoy with a fiery stare, but she had no one to blame for her current state but herself. It was clearly going to be a temperamental partnership.

"Then tell me. Where do you propose we go?" she asked, struggling to carry the books.

"The seventh floor." He said, seemingly agitated.

"You're out of your bloody mind. What's wrong with the library?"

"Do you not use your common sense, Bones? This is a private matter."

"Oh, right." She said mockingly. "It's okay for people to suspect it, you just don't want them to _know_ you're daft."

"Mind your tongue." He said sternly.

"Or you'll what? Strangle me?" Amelia prompted as he rolled his eyes at the snake reference.

"I refuse to stand here and argue with a child. Follow me." He said before adding, "At a distance."

"Of course – someone might see us." She said in a childlike manner just to agitate him even further.

Malfoy ignored her comment and headed for the stairwell that would take them to their ideal place of study. It had occurred to him before that the library was way too public, but he couldn't think of an alternative right away. That is, until Walden MacNair, his second in command began bragging about his latest conquest. While the Slytherin didn't mind his dorm mates listening to him when his four poster rocked violently into the wee hours of the morning, when taking on Amycus Carrow's sister, Alecto, he wanted some privacy. Which was what led Malfoy to believe that the Room of Requirement would be perfect.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he watched as Amelia struggled to carry her load of books. Balancing the text under her weight was becoming a daunting task and he couldn't stand to hear her complain under her breath any longer.

Turning around, Malfoy approached her briskly, snatching the top five books, evening out the pile of ten.

"You're too damn proud to ask for help." He snorted.

"And you're too damn proud to offer help."

When he turned around, Amelia debated on whether or not to utter a 'thank you,' but decided that his unconditional rudeness matched with her snobbery leveled out the playing field. She did however, fall into step beside him with the intention of getting some answers.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out."

"What's the big mystery? There's not a student in sight." She offered. "What, are you planning on tying me down in some unused room, getting the answers to the questions on the N.E.W.T.s that you probably stole and leaving me for dead?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. It was unlikely, but her mood was already sodden.

"Bones." He said matter of factly as they climbed the stairwell. "I will never, _ever_ tie you down."

"You're disgusting." She said, shaking her head. She debated on pressing the matter but saw no point, as he would only say vague things to confuse her.

After climbing the final stairwell, they came to a corridor that Amelia was not familiar with. She had never gone beyond the basic locations in the castle, and had never really planned on it, until now. Malfoy stopped in the center of the hall and stood facing the opposing wall, which was blank, not even a portrait hung against the stone.

"Brilliant, Malfoy." She said with a roll of her eyes as he paced back and forth. "You say a library is too public and now you're suggesting a corridor. Not only is it right in the middle of foot traffic but also it's right out in the open. Great idea."

Malfoy paced back and forth a total of three times asking in his own mind for a place to practice and study charms when he finally turned to address Amelia. The otherwise blank wall behind him began taking the shape of a door, granting the two a safe and extremely private place to study.

"Bones." He said, holding his hand up to keep her from speaking. "If you kept your mouth shut for five minutes, would it explode from all of that hot air trying to get out?"

Amelia snapped her mouth shut and let her gaze rest on the blond. She would have retorted back coldly if she had not seen the door scaling the wall behind him. 'Of course.' She thought. They were on the seventh floor. She nodded her head in approval as she realized they were standing in front of the Room of Requirement. Even though Amelia concluded that his idea was sufficient and a much better place of study than the library, she refused to let him win.

"Ladies first." She said mockingly, nodding for him to enter the room.

Malfoy turned his gaze down on Amelia, his lips contorted into a careful smirk. He was amused by her insults and how much she thought that bothered him. She could call him anything she liked – it wouldn't faze him. The only thing that Amelia had said that rubbed him the wrong way was the remark about his father. If there was anything he would not stand for, it was being compared to Arabaxtus Malfoy. He thought about making her pay for it twofold even now, but the last thing he needed was expulsion on his record. That, and if he added fuel to the fire, it would only give her more of an incentive to bring up Malfoy Senior. The one thing he did have to say about the Ravenclaw was that, unlike almost everyone else, she wasn't scared of him. He had to give her credit for not cowering each time he got close to beating the daylights out of her. He wouldn't, of course, but inwardly, he tipped his hat to her.

Ignoring her snide remark, Malfoy swung the heavy wooden door open to reveal a room that looked somewhat similar to the Ravenclaw Common room. Once again, books lined the wall from ceiling to floor and several ladders were attached to the bookshelves themselves for easy access. A podium with an index stood in between the two cherry wood desks and included a listing of all the books inside the room along with their main contents. Two brown leather couches were positioned adjacent from each other, a coffee table with a tall stack of books at the center of the sitting area. Candles were lit in various areas of the room, throwing both light and shadows across the room. There were no windows, which bothered Amelia. In their place, however, were floor length portraits of landscapes, giving the room an outdoor feel.

Malfoy sauntered over to the farthest desk and set his books down and began flipping through the pages. Imitating the Slytherin, Amelia placed her books on the opposite desk and walked over to the podium. She began flipping through the text, occasionally pausing and running her fingers over the lettering. After repeating said act at least five times, she turned behind her and pulled eight books from the homes off the shelf and dropped them on Malfoy's desk with a loud thud.

"Christ." He muttered. "Do we really need all these?"

"We have three hours to kill." She said pointedly. "This is probably the best place to start. I'm hoping to get through these before the month is out." She said, scanning the walls of books.

"You're out of your bloody mind. That's in one week." He said, reading the spines of the texts she placed in front of him.

"That's a total of twenty-six hours." She sad as if that explained her logic. When Malfoy raised his eyebrows, she added, "That's three hours per week day, five per weekend."

"You'd better be an excellent teacher if you expect me to give up my time." He grumbled.

"Because that would be put to better use." She rolled her eyes. "This isn't exactly an elective for me, either."

"Right." He nodded. "You'd rather run off with 'The King.'" Malfoy scoffed, using Amelia's boyfriend's infamous nickname.

"If I have anything to say about it, you'll be passing by Halloween." She declared.

"I already have a copy of 'Advanced Charms; Fifth Year.'" He said, indicating the version he pulled out of his satchel and the copy in the pile she brought from the library.

"The subject," she said leaning on the desk with both hands, "is called 'charms.'" Reaching for his own book, Amelia swiftly flipped it open to reveal several inappropriate drawings. "Not 'The Anatomy of Narcissa Black.'"

"I still don't understand why we need so many damn books." He huffed.

"Look at your grades, Malfoy." She said pointedly. "I'm being generous."

"You want me to read all of these?"

"That's the general idea." She nodded. "How else to do you expect to pass the tests?"

"You're administering tests." He shook his head. "I didn't sign up for another class."

"I made a promise to Professor Flitwick that I would help you." She said, moving around the desk to stand beside him, enabling her to look him in the eye. "I keep my promises, Malfoy."

"That's a promise _you_ made, Bones. It has nothing to do with me-"

"It has _everything_ to do with you!" she exclaimed. "You can fool a lot of people, Malfoy. Flitwick into thinking your motivated, The Headmaster into thinking you really want to excel in your studies. But I know who you are and you can't fool me."

"You know me?" he said, folding his arms across his chest as she nodded. "Really? Then who am I?"

"You don't care about school. You never did. All you care about is your family's approval, and you hardly pay attention to that anymore. The only person you give a damn about is yourself and how far you can make it with Him." Malfoy's eyes widened and then narrowed at her mention of the Dark Lord. She had his attention. "You thought I didn't know about Him? Being the daughter of a pair of Aurors has its benefits, especially when they want to prepare me for my future. I'm not an idiot. There'll most likely be a fallout."

"A war." He corrected.

"A war." She nodded. "And you . . . you want to be a part of that. You want to be His most trusted; his second in command, reaping in all of the benefits. Not only that, but you'll have the coveted approval of your family." She smirked. "I can just see it now; you in a mansion with a disgusting amount of power," she scowled, "Narcissa at your side. All the while, muggles and half-bloods are dying. And your father claps you on the back and says, 'that's my boy.'" Amelia narrowed her eyes, shaking her head as she continued. "The whole lot of you are despicable, Malfoy." She said his name with repulsion. "You really think that you can make them proud? Let me tell you something, help you out." She said knowingly. "It doesn't matter how many muggles you kill or how many times you put those convincing lips of yours to His arse, you will never, _ever_, have that man's approval because to people like him, you're not a son, you're just a trophy."

Malfoy looked down at Amelia with a hidden confusion. 'How in the hell,' he wondered, 'did she nail it on the head?' He spoke to no one about his personal life. No one. Even if he did, the last person to possess such knowledge would be a sixth year female Ravenclaw. But he kept his amazement hidden, as he was exceptionally good at concealing his emotions. 'But perhaps,' he thought, 'she knew that, too.' Instead, he cocked his head to the side and asked,

"And what leads you to believe all that?"

"It's simple, really." She shrugged, looking at him square in the eye. "Being a housemate of Rita Skeeter has its benefits. She has a sort of . . . infatuation with your family."

It was true. The blonde haired Ravenclaw spent countless hours placing together the Wizarding World's most peculiar family. Not peculiar in the true sense of the world. They were fairly normal. Mother. Father. Son. High in wealth and social power for reasons Amelia never understood – neither Arabaxtus nor his wife appeared to have any sort of steady income. Yet whenever she visited the Ministry to see her parents, he was always there. But what was the most interesting about them was that they were very public on their views regarding blood purity. It was curious, Rita thought, for people so influential to be so outspoken with such an unpopular opinion. That is, unless they had a valid reason to back up their beliefs. And so, for the past five years, Rita paid uncontrollably close attention to the family and would express it to anyone that would listen, the listeners usually being Ravenclaws who had no choice. How Rita got her information, Amelia didn't know, though she seemed to have a breakthrough the previous year, garnering information ranging from their holidays plans to the interior design of their house. Amelia felt that such details were better left a mystery.

Malfoy almost laughed. An infatuation. He should have expected no less from the school's Mouth. Regardless of how she got her information, it was still correct. Moreover, Amelia was in a position that gave her a certain amount of power over Malfoy – something that truly worried him. Standing up straighter, he dropped his arms to his sides.

"You once made the request of me to refrain from insulting your family." He said evenly. "I ask that you pay me the same courtesy."

"I would if it were on the same basis." She replied fairly.

"What's that?"

"I don't want my family's name in your mouth because I respect and honor them." Amelia shook her head. "You're just ashamed of yours."

Amelia's tone was indifferent but it was the fact that she even had the nerve to say it at all that set Malfoy off.

"I've had just about enough of you, Bones." Malfoy said, enraged. "Let me tell _you_ something; Rita Skeeter is a cockroach who tells anything to anyone that will listen because she's a greedy attention whore. She can say as she likes but you're a fool for believing it. Everything she said was a lie but your opinion on the matter is not something I value and going to such lengths to convince you of such would be a complete waste of time." He seethed. "My values are of no matter to an ingrate like you."

Amelia would not admit that his insults stung. She already decided that displaying any sort of emotion in front of him would not work out in her favor. Instead, she concluded that she would not hear anymore.

"I will not stand for being verbally abused by a man who makes no effort whatsoever to be a decent human being. I've had enough of this." She stated, turned on her heel and grabbed her messenger bag, beginning to fill it with several of the books she brought with her.

It put Malfoy in a hard position. He would finally be rid of the one person he did not wish to spend time with, but on the other hand, the small professor would undoubtedly find another way to help the seventeen year old. It was a toss up – either way he lost and either way he would have to do something he didn't want to do. He sighed lightly and grabbed a textbook that she had missed. Approaching the frustrated female, he shoved the book into her hands.

"You missed one." He said indifferently.

Amelia turned the book over in her hands. It was a copy of Jonathan Abrams _Charming Your Way; A Step by Step Guide to Getting the Most out of Your Favorite Subject._ She had checked the book out of the library weeks ago for her own personal use. It was one of the more helpful books she had red as it was used by Professor Flitwick himself. He used it to create many of his tests, a fact that only Ravenclaws were aware of. Amelia knew Malfoy was not a fool - he must have known that he was handing her the answer - a blueprint for passing.

"Did you suddenly grow a conscience?" she said sarcastically.

"You're dating Shacklebolt." He said pointedly. "With this in your possession, and you in his, I'm not taking any chances. His laundry list of bedmates isn't private, you know, and I don't fancy disease. I care more about my health than cheating." He remarked and turned to walk away, leaving the ocean eyed Ravenclaw dumbstruck.

He had pulled the last straw with his remark. As if attacking her family and beliefs wasn't enough, he favored pulling Kingsley into the mix. She could have let it go and dubbed him immature, but she was not one to keep her mouth shut and would not do so for Malfoy.

Gripping the book tightly in her hands, Amelia lifted the text over her shoulder and with all of the energy she had in her body, she hoisted the book in Malfoy's direction. It traveled the fifteen-foot distance between them hitting the seventeen year old between the shoulder blades.

Almost instantly, Malfoy reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Amelia hardly had time to process his action before he uttered an incantation that sent her flying backward, the small of her back colliding with the nearby desk.

As the brunette sunk to the floor, clutching her stomach where the spell hit her, Malfoy balled his hands into fists. He had not planned on reacting the way he did – it was just second nature. The last thing he needed was a dead girl on his hands – he would have to be more careful about his temper.

Against his better judgment and out of a sort of sympathy, Malfoy sulked to where the injured girl lay, trying to pull herself up off the floor. Upon feeling his hand on her shoulder, Amelia shoved him away, furious.

"Don't. Touch. Me." She said firmly.

Had it been anyone else, she would have apologized for her rudeness – heaving a book at the back of someone's head wasn't the most polite thing she had ever done. However, she was not anticipating a full on attack. A quick remark maybe, a threat even, but not a physical challenge.

"I-" he began. There was hardly a way to justify his action. It was impulse. He was being assaulted – he had to defend himself. But Amelia cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it!" she exclaimed. "I don't _ever_ want to hear what you have to say because you're a self loving ass who can't even think for himself."

"What the hell does that mean?" he prompted, his temper on the rise.

"You think that was an accident?" she said, referring to his hexation. "There's only once place you could have learned to react like that-"

"Don't-"

"I don't have to say it! He and your father have all these goddamned ideas planted in you – the lot of you. The whole Slytherin house. You're all the same. Just as desperate for acceptance, just as pathetic." She spat.

"Do _not_ compare me to them, Bones." He said harshly.

"Why not, Malfoy? Why should you be any different? Wait," she smirked, "That's right. You're their leader. The King Cobra himself."

"I'm not anyone's leader."

"The hell you are! Who is it they all seek advice from? Who is it they shake in fear of? Who is it they go to with all their damn problems?"

Malfoy stood silent. She was right and she knew it. His entire sixth year had been about gaining their respect so that he could maintain control of the Slytherin house. And now he had it. But that did not mean he wanted it. And he certainly did not want to be lumped into the same category with them. They were lustful, mindless children who had no real goals. They were doing exactly what they were told without even considering the consequences. He had considered them but it hardly mattered what he thought. He was a Malfoy, and therefore, none of that mattered.

"I'm not like them, Bones." He repeated, taking a step closer, so that he was inches from her face as he glared down on her.

"No?" she taunted. "Then why don't you prove it."

Malfoy gripped her by the shoulders, his hands strong around her bones, giving the both of them the impression that he could break her at any moment. Malfoy thought he saw a flicker of fear and uncertainly across her features but she quickly masked it with stubbornness and indignance.

"What are you going to do, Malfoy? Kill me?" she scoffed. "Go ahead – then you'll be just like your father."

Malfoy would have liked nothing more than to beat her senseless for what she said. But he had already shown enough of his true colors tonight. In the same instance, he shook her away and she jerked back, ready to head for the door. He should have just let her go and considered his other options. Surely there was someone, anyone else that could help him, or do the work for him. He had enough money and could bribe even the wealthiest student. But that wasn't an option. He needed the credibility, not just the grade. And it might be nice, he thought, to escape the trappings of his life even for just a few hours each day. The latter was a thought that he brushed away quickly – he hardly let himself think what he wanted anymore. Instead, he reached out and took her by the forearm, pulling her close to him, their breath inches from the other.

"Please." He said, though it was almost a whisper.

She knew how hard it was to admit needing help – she had just as much pride as he did. The look on his face was what made her forget everything that had just happened. He looked like a lost child, grasping at ends to try to please, to accommodate, to find a way out. Without being dramatic, she considered the idea of staying. If there was anything that Malfoy didn't have to do in her presence, it was prove something. She wasn't one of his minions, so the brutal façade could come crashing down. Of course, she didn't expect his shell to soften, but for the first time, she caught a glimpse inside.

Without a word, she nodded and he gently released her. Grabbing her bag, she set up her things on the table once more and began to make a list of topics to go over throughout the week; everything from levitation to conducting charms without words. By candlelight, Amelia wrote and Malfoy read. He asked the occasional question, but other than that, the room was thick with silence. Diligently, Amelia made notes and lists of books to check out. She decided that immersing herself in the project would be worth it. Stealing a glace at the Slytherin, Amelia watched as he made notations and fact checked them from time to time. He was serious; it seemed, about working hard. Amelia sighed as she turned back to her work. _Maybe_ she thought _just maybe we can work this out._

_

* * *

_Breath by Breaking Benjamin (_from which the story gets its name_)


	8. Chapter Seven

**Seven.**

"Keep your eyes closed!" Kingsley instructed the following Friday, guiding Amelia in and out of corridors to keep her from guessing where exactly he was taking her. He had tied a bandana around her eyes just to make sure she was completely in the dark.

Amelia had been returning to Ravenclaw Tower later and later each night, leaving her little time for socializing. Her sessions with Malfoy were improving mainly because they hardly spoke, which she was finding to be key. The less communication they had, the better. Regardless, she found herself looking over material for Malfoy during all of her free time, which meant that there was very little attention to be paid to Kingsley. Understanding as he was, he asked if he could take her somewhere special Friday night. Feeling guilty, Amelia agreed.

So far, he had taken her in several different directions. She knew they had walked through the Great Hall at least twice. He was determined to make their first official date special. He knew that impressing Amelia would be hard; she came from a family where lavish gifts and fountains of the finest were at their fingertips. But what he had planned was something that not many wizards could pull off.

"Kingsley." Amelia said. "Are we almost there? My feet are starting to hurt."

"I told you to wear sensible shoes." He said, and she could hear the grin as he spoke.

"I thought we were taking a walk, not going on an expedition." She teased, attempting to lift the blindfold.

"Hey!" he said, pulling her fingers from the thick fabric. "We're almost there. No peaking."

"I'm not, I'm not!" she assured.

She felt him stop her from moving and heard the latch of what she could only guess was a door or a window. She wanted to say window, but when he started moving her forward again, she felt the cool night air on all sides of her.

"Now?" she asked, turning herself in a circle trying to locate him.

"Now." He said, his voice coming from the spot directly in front of her. With grace, he untied the bandana and unveiled her eyes to the starry night sky.

Amelia looked around the unfamiliar area. She had only been here once before when she had taken Astronomy in her third year, which had been a blur. That was the year Caradoc had kissed her. Edgar was ecstatic and did all he could to help them spend time alone together. But Caradoc's mother was having another baby and he was more focused on helping his parents then having a girlfriend, which Amelia understood. She would have rather spent more time preparing for her exams than snogging. Just the same, she had taken Astronomy, and remembered very little about stars.

"Kingsley . . . " Amelia trailed off, looking up at the constellations, trying to remember what they were. "What is all this?"

"Well," he said casually, pulling his wand from his pocket, "You said to make this unforgettable. And I thought, 'Merlin. How am I supposed to do that?' So I started thinking about all of the things that are special to you, about all the people that are important to you. Your family, obviously, your friends, hard work, integrity. And then I started to wonder what all of these things had in common and found," he said, beginning to point his wand at certain spots in the sky, teardrop shaped points standing in where the tip of his wand had been, "that everything was connected. Your friends _are_ your family and you love them _because_ of their hard work and integrity. And it's all of these . . . connections," he stated, drawing more dots above her head, "that make you who you are. You're incredibly honest and loyal, beautiful and kind – and that's to everyone. But to me," he said, shoving his free hand into his pocket, twirling his wand between his fingers, "To me you're not just those things, but you make my life unbelievably bright." He finished, casting his wand to the floating dots.

In a great flash, they left their hanging balance and swirled around Amelia, her hair swept back from her face. Dancing around her small frame they cast themselves up to the sky, outlining various constellations. Amelia squinted her eyes as they formed the various shapes, trying in her mind to identify each one. When they finally settled into place, they formed the one arrangement of stars Amelia was familiar with.

"Aries." She said, her face upturned to the sky, the pattern of her own zodiac before her eyes. _Of course_ she thought, her lessons from nearly three years before coming back to her. They had done an entire unit based around Greek Mythology and what each sign meant. She and Emmeline would stay up late during the winter months stargazing.

She turned back to Kingsley for a brief moment. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his shirt untucked and his tie loose around his neck. He looked so casual, so carefree, so much of what she needed. Her entire being was wrapped up in precision, exactness and perfection. Kingsley was very much the opposite. He took the time to appreciate the smaller things, to pay attention to what everyone else overlooked.

"Thank you, Kingsley." She said with much gratitude, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"You're welcome, Lia." He said against her hair, kissing her forehead before lying down atop the Astronomy Tower, nodding for Amelia to do the same.

The sky was darker than she had ever seen it before; a navy blanket with thousands of twinkling eyes. Occasionally, they would find the outline of another alignment, but none of them shone brighter than the ones he had set earlier. After a moment, Kingsley closed his eyes, Amelia at his side. It was peaceful, dreamlike. Just as she was about to let herself drift off, a shooting star made it's way across the sky. In her short sixteen years of life, Amelia could not recall having ever seen one before. She knew that in muggle traditions, children and adults alike make wishes on such stars. Whether or not they came true, she supposed didn't matter. She thought for a moment about waking Kingsley but decided against it.

Casting her deep blue eyes toward the traveling star, a curious thought danced across her brow and she wasn't sure why. She wondered for a moment what, if presented with the opportunity, would Malfoy wish for?

–––––––––––––

All students of all years and houses had a sort of routine to help get them through their day. The only variation lied in circumstance and cause, but for the most part, all schedules consisted of attending classes, completing assignments, spending time with friends and attending Quidditch practice or another extracurricular activity. Whether or not the tasks were done in this order also varied, but there were all things to be done for everyone.

Amelia Bones' repertoire mirrored the aforementioned very much so. She attended class and completed her work ahead of time. She spent her evenings with her brothers, Emmeline, Xeno and at least five times out of the week, with Kingsley, who she was beginning to enjoy spending more and more time with. At least two evenings a week, she was required to make rounds around the castle, fulfilling her duties as a Prefect. Everything had a place and everything was in its place.

Though there was also twenty-six hours for the week each week during which time Amelia was to venture to the seventh floor to meet Malfoy in attempt to bring him up to par in his Charms studies. When making such journeys, she used the library as her alibi, but had to switch her excuse from time to time, just incase she began to look suspicious. It was not uncommon for her to spend a good deal of time in the library anyway, so no one asked any questions. When she wasn't studying, she reveled in the moments with her friends and Kingsley. Not only did she genuinely enjoy his company, but also it kept everyone from asking questions about her other activities.

While Amelia would have rather been in more pleasant company, the situation with the Slytherin had mellowed considerably over the past three weeks that they had been studying. They had eventually gone through each book in the Room of Requirement and thus far, each exam she had given him, he had done fairly well on. They were finally civil enough with each other to sit at the same desk so that they could communicate easier. His problem, she concluded, was not lack of understanding, as his questions were rare. The issue lied in inability to concentrate. Only three reports had been given to Professor Flitwick but progress was seen in the seventeen year olds work ethic. One month would call for an evaluation between Amelia and the Charms Professor to discus further tutoring.

It was the second week of October when the school became overwhelmed with talk of the annual Masquerade Ball. The past two years that Amelia had been of age to go, she went with Emmeline and the two alternated dancing with Xeno, who was more then happy to accompany the two girls. This year, however, was a bit different. Both girls had steady boyfriends, which was fantastic for them, but it left Xeno in an odd position. While Xeno would most likely not even bother, as formal occasions did not matter to him and his only motivation in previous years had been the Ravenclaw females, Amelia was content to add to her own to-do the task of finding Xeno a date. Unfortunately, anyone who did not know Xeno automatically deemed him as uncommonly odd and everyone in Ravenclaw was spoken for. With the exception of one person, which was why Amelia had hunted down Rita Skeeter during her free period.

"Rita." Amelia had called out when she spotted the girl in the courtyard alone, her composition books clutched in her hands, of course.

At the sound of her name, Rita looked up. It was not rare for Rita to hear her name called during the day. In fact, she was quite used to it. Her talent for spreading news faster than an owl was not appreciated by her peers and on more then one occasion, she found herself being threatened. But, as always, she talked her way out of things. Rita Skeeter had made a good habit of knowing more about her victims then they though she knew so whatever tid-bit of information she may have leaked was nothing compared to the overwhelming truth she possessed. Her brilliant epiphany last year helped her gain some battleground – ground she would undoubtedly need in the following years.

"Rita." Amelia said again as she sat down beside the blonde, catching her breath.

"Amelia." Rita nodded.

"How are you?" Amelia asked conversationally as she set her books down.

Rita put the tip of her pen in her mouth, looking over Amelia. They were in the same house and year and yet, the never really had a proper conversation. When Rita needed opinions about her stories and how to go about exploiting her classmates, Amelia almost always lent an ear to be polite. But never in their six years of having known each other had Amelia sought after the blonde. 'This,' Rita mused as she took off her glasses, 'is going to be good.'

"Well, thank you." She nodded. "And yourself? Busy with Kingsley, I imagine."

"Busy with many things." Amelia mended as Rita smirked. "Kingsley being one of them, especially with the Masquerade Ball coming up."

"Ah, yes. The Ball. A busy season for a budding journalist, you know." Rita said pointedly, stuffing her pen into her book bag.

"You know Rita, I've been thinking. Maybe you need a night of fun. Put your writing aside for a bit." Amelia shrugged.

Rita looked at Amelia curiously. She should know, Rita thought, better than anyone else that there was no taking a break. Rita was honing skills for the future. She couldn't be bothered by taking part in formal events with scandal was about. She would attend, of course, but not to have a good time; to see who was having a good time.

"Amelia." Rita said matter of factly. "I know that you're snagged yourself a boyfriend and that's fantastic for you. But it's not really becoming to play matchmaker. As Oscar Wilde once said, 'the only charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception necessary for both parties.'"

Getting to her feet, Rita slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to depart. Amelia had realized that getting Rita to agree would be a daunting task, but she figured that they could come up with some sort of bargain.

"Wait!" Amelia said, hopping to her feet.

"I thought I made myself clear. I-"

"What if we make a deal?" she offered. "You do me a favor and I do you one."

"What exactly would I be doing for you?" Rita questioned, folding her arms across her chest. There were a number of things that she could think of off the top of her head, but she was anxious to hear the girl's proposal.

"Xeno needs a date for the Masquerade Ball." Amelia said quickly. "And I know that you don't want to even go for yourself and neither does he, but it's his last year here and I'd really like him to go, but he won't if he doesn't have anyone to go with. You won't even have to spend any time with him. I love Xeno and all, but he won't even notice if you leave the second we walk through the door."

"That sounds terribly unpromising." Rita said, bored. "But before I say no, what do you plan on doing for me?"

"Anything, I suppose." Amelia shrugged. She hadn't thought that far ahead, but figured Rita would take the bait regardless.

Just as Rita was about to open her mouth and say 'no,' she spotted Malfoy along with his cronies walking along the corridor. She watched him carefully as he passed. His mouth was twisted into a frown, as usual and he nodded curtly to whatever Walden MacNair had just said to the group in a whisper. Turning back to Amelia, Rita again readied herself to turn down the unappealing offer when something about Malfoy caught her eye. It wasn't his reply to the Slytherins or the slight slowing of his pace. It was the direction of his gaze. He had been focused on where he was headed, his destination when he spotted something else – a distraction. Rita followed the boy's gaze all the way to Amelia Bones.

Turning his attention away, Malfoy continued on his way, masking his wandering eye with a retort to his fellow housemates. It had all happened so quickly that unless Rita hadn't been looking for something she wouldn't have found it. To anyone else, it would have looked like he was just scanning the crowd, taking in his peers. But as someone who looked for these moments on a near daily basis, Rita saw his the line of his eyes as something else entirely. As she turned back to an oblivious looking Amelia, Rita had an idea.

"Of course, I'll go with him." Rita said in a tone that was so sweet it was likely to form a cavity.

"You will?" Amelia asked, slightly caught off guard by Rita's change of mind and the tone of her voice.

"Yes. Anything for a friend." Rita said, patting Amelia on the shoulder.

"Great!" Amelia beamed. "Well, what can I do for you?" she asked fairly.

"I'm not sure." She said innocently. "But I'll get back to you."

"Thank you, Rita. I really, really appreciate it." Amelia stressed as Rita nodded accordingly.

"Like I said, we're friends." Rita commented before slowly changing the direction of the conversation. "So, you're going to the ball with Kingsley, then?"

"Yes. We're sort of going as a group. Kingsley and myself, Edgar and Nathalia, Elliot and Cordelia and Emmeline and Amos. And now, you and Xeno."

"Such an honor it is to be a part of something." Rita said sarcastically. "Its funny though, isn't it?" she mused.

"What's funny?" Amelia asked, confused.

"Haven't you noticed it?" Rita said, turning to face the girl.

"I don't follow you. Noticed what?"

"Of course, you wouldn't. You don't think in the same … patterns that I do." She waved her hand, dismissing the small subject. "You, your brothers, Emmeline, Amos, Kingsley, now myself and Xeno, this little 'group' you're talking about … we're all Pureblooded. Kind of like sticking with our own breed, don't you think?"

Of course the idea of this had crossed Amelia's mind before, but it was unintentional. Though, for a group of people so vehemently against Pureblood-only behavior, the image of them all together was confusing. They represented something they were working to shut down. But it wasn't by choice.

"That's just a coincidence, Rita. If Kingsley were half-blooded, I would still-"

"Love him?" Rita interrupted with a smirk.

"Feel the same way." Amelia corrected. "So would Edgar and Elliot. We all would."

"It's curious though." Rita shrugged. "Think about it. Such a rare position to be in."

"Rare?"

"Of course. You could be with anyone you wanted. Fanatics about that sort of thing would look at you as an ideal candidate. Anyone of lesser blood would be thrilled to be with someone of your heritage."

"Rita, I-" Amelia began, but the blonde cut her off.

"Meaning that any set of parents looking to pair their child off with a fine genetic chain couldn't possibly object to you. Whether it be the Lovegood's, Shackelbolt's, even the Malfoy's-"

"I think that's enough." Amelia said uneasily.

"But you agree, don't you?" Rita pressed.

"With what?"

"That there wouldn't be a problem if someone like _you_ decided to date someone like _Malfoy_."

Almost instantly Amelia felt her stomach flip at the idea that Rita had somehow managed to piece the very scattered pieces of the puzzle together. But there was no possible way that Rita or anyone could have any knowledge of Amelia's meetings with Malfoy. They arrived at different times; departed separately, never spoke to each other in public. Amelia hadn't told anyone, not even Emmeline, and it was just as important to him that they remain private. It must be, Amelia thought, Rita's obsession with the Malfoy Family. Of course, that's all.

"There wouldn't be a problem blood-wise." Amelia said slowly. "But seeing as I hardly know him and would take no pleasure in getting to know him, yes, there would be a problem. Thank you for your time, Rita. I'll see you later." Amelia finished, and began walking about.

"It's a pity." Rita called out. "Because the two of you would make for an intriguing couple."

Amelia almost stopped and turned to ask Rita what she meant but decided against it. Rita was far too occupied with pushing people's buttons for her retort to mean anything significant. Still, it was hard for Amelia to keep herself from wondering just how deep Rita's words ran.

–––––––––––––

"Malfoy." MacNair said for the second time.

"Hmm?" Malfoy finally answered, tearing his gaze away from the courtyard.

"He's staying at your house right now, isn't it?" MacNair repeated.

"Yes." Malfoy nodded curtly before glancing one last time at the Ravenclaw with her back turned to him. "Yes. He said it would be until after the holidays."

"See." MacNair said to Evan Rosier who swatted at Rabastan Lestrange.

Malfoy, however, kept his eyes trained forward, his mind wandering. It wouldn't be long before he had Bones out of his hair, and time to concentrate on more important things, the least of which being N.E.W.T.s. With the Dark Lord keeping residence at Malfoy Manor until after the New Year, that meant only one thing; He had something prepared for the holiday break, during which time the seventeen year old would be home. There was, he knew, only one thing it could possibly mean; He didn't want to jinx himself by speaking it aloud but it had been his only thought for years.

As of late though, he had grown slightly bolder about the situation. He had his mind on other things. He would never admit it, but spending his evenings in the Room of Requirement gave him some peace of mind. He was not obligated to be the head of Slytherin House or his father's son. In fact, he was more inclined to _not_ be these things because that was what Amelia Bones expected from him, and he liked surprising people. Under her eye, he was merely a student trying to better himself. He felt normal, and he preferred it that way.

"Either way Lestrange," MacNair said loudly, bringing Malfoy back to his current surroundings – the corridor that led to the Slytherin Common Room. "I bet I'll get it before you.

"Both of you need to quit bickering about it." Rosier chimed in. "I'm sick of hearing about all the things you two are going to do. All talk, no action." He said knowingly.

"Just because you took out your brother-" Amycus Carrow began.

"That's enough." Malfoy said sternly as they reached the final corner, silencing the group.

Evan Rosier was the older of two sons at one point in time. Alex being the second born. Evan's father, Xavier, was always second best to his own older brother and had promised to change the predicable cycle with his own children. Xaiver showed Alex with attention and affection while Evan was left by the wayside. It was why it was Evan, who was never good enough, saw fit to change it. It was why there was an accident in the garden on the Rosier's 850-acre estate.

The boys had been playing in the maze; running and jumping along the hedges. The gardener had gone home for the day and had left his tools behind, unattended.

Alex Rosier was found entangled in a pair of garden sheers, his jugular cut and head nearly severed. All eyes turned to the oldest son, the silver medal. 'It was an accident.' He had said. 'We were just playing.' At the funeral, Evan Rosier didn't cry, a curious sight for a ten year old that had lost his only brother, his only friend. But everyone failed to see what the death meant – he was number one again.

It wasn't the fact that Rosier already had one killing under his belt; it was that it had been his own brother, a child. He had done it even before he knew about Voldemort, which meant that he did it for himself. His ruthlessness made him a perfect candidate for a Death Eater.

"Alecto." MacNair said upon being asked whom he was taking to the Ball, much to the distaste of Amycus, who scowled.

"And you?" Augustus Rookwood prompted of Malfoy.

"Narcissa." Malfoy answered systematically.

"As if you even had to ask." Rosier grinned.

"I guess that leaves me with Astoria Madley." Rookwood sighed.

"Why the long face?" MacNair smirked.

"You of all people know how she is. Merlin, she never gives it a rest!"

"Tell me about it." MacNair nodded. "Alecto has me up all hours of the night."

"Watch it." Amycus said upon the mention of his younger sister. "Why do we even have to go to these things anyway?"

"Keeping up appearances." Malfoy said, closing his eyes. "Be involved, don't be suspicious."

The future Death Eaters sat on the black leather couches in the Common Room surrounded by tables and desks and bookshelves, all while water reflected across the walls. The room was dark and damp but it had been home to Malfoy and the others for so long. In fact, Malfoy thought, the room reminded him of his home in Whiltshire; the mahogany wood, the leather, the dim lighting. It was both comforting and eerie. It almost made him wonder what he was working toward. A cause that believed in, of course. But what else? No new life, no new home, no new lover. It was all the same. But it always would be, for his son, too. It was to be expected.

Malfoy listened as his housemates talked about their 'bright futures,' which were actually very dark. The lives they'd be taking and the difference they'd be making. He nodded in agreement with them.

"It'll all be better one day." MacNair said.

'Yes.' Malfoy thought. 'One day.'

–––––––––––––

Had it been any other day Amelia would have mulled over Rita's words in great detail, contemplating each possible scenario in which to ask the blonde to define what she said. However, it being a Saturday, Amelia had more important matters to attend to.

Besides meeting Malfoy after dinner at six, which would keep her busy until midnight, she had promised Emmeline they could get together and talk. Amelia had assumed this meant in the Ravenclaw Common Room but Emmeline had another idea. Because Emmeline had been spending much of her time with Amos, she had been to the Hufflepuff Common Room several times. And, thanks to Amos' charm, the kitchens, which were located almost directly across from the Hufflepuff Common Room. Although Amos had tried to be discreet about how to enter the kitchen, it was hard for Emmeline to miss the tickling of the pear. Seeing as Emmeline and her best friend had hardly any time to see each other in private, she thought that the kitchen would be the best place for solitude and snacks.

"Well," Amelia said as she down at one of the kitchen counters, "You're just as sneaky as Kingsley. That's the second time I've been ambushed in a month's time."

"Really? What did Kingsley manage to pull off?" Emmeline asked with a grin, popping a grape into her mouth.

"A few weeks ago he blindfolded me and took me up to the Astronomy Tower and we stargazed for … it must have been hours." Amelia grinned.

"Lia! That sounds so romantic! Why didn't you tell me? Or Edgar so he could tell the rest of us." She laughed.

"I made Kingsley promise not to say a word about it to Ed for that very reason." She joked. "Things have been hectic." Amelia shrugged, which was in part true.

When she wasn't in class she was doing homework or 'in the library.' Thus far she played off her nightly jaunts well. No one asked more then 'did you get a lot of work done?' And Amelia always replied 'I would have done it all but then I would have nothing to do tomorrow' which seemed to be satisfactory and humorous all at once. Now that Malfoy was close to passing, Amelia didn't see the harm in telling Emmeline. She knew how to keep a secret. Just the same, she wondered if maybe she should wait until after she and Malfoy were no longer meeting.

"I know what you mean." Emmeline nodded, her voice suddenly turning bleak.

"Emmeline? What's wrong?" Amelia asked, concerned.

If she had been talking to anyone else, Emmeline would have averted her gaze and changed the subject. But she never lied to Amelia and the subject on her mind was not foreign to the two friends.

From her pocket, Emmeline pulled a letter with her own name written neatly across the front of the envelope. Amelia would know Elizabeth Vance's handwriting anywhere; her penmanship was undistinguishable.

"From your mum." Amelia declared. She stopped asking questions long ago. She knew the situation and the details. Emmeline did not like to talk about it, Amelia knew, but there were certain things that needed to be addressed. "How bad?" Amelia asked, raising her eyes from the letter to Emmeline.

"No more then usual." Emmeline said with a small shrug. What Emmeline had really said was that Mrs. Vance could conceal the new bruises easily enough until they went away. No bones had been broken and no fatal injuries had been issued. It was a normal night in the Vance household.

Emmeline set the letter on the counter top, inhaling sharply. Amelia knew that if she could, Emmeline would leave her father, but she made it clear a very long time ago that she wouldn't leave without her mother. It was something that could not be compromised. Placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder, Amelia said,

"It's almost over, Emme. Just a little over a year and you can, we can," she mended, "help your mum get away."

"And where would she go?" Emmeline said, harsher then she intended.

"Anywhere; with my parents, Xeno's family. Merlin, even with Rita." Amelia said with a small smile.

"I appreciate it, Lia, but I really don't need your help. I can take care of my family's problems."

"Emme," Amelia grinned, "With the exception of a similar genetic makeup, we're sisters. This is our family. And I refuse to let you do this alone. The same goes for Edgar and Elliot."

"But they don't know." Emmeline said nodding to the letter.

"No." Amelia agreed. "But they'd do anything for you, and you know that."

Emmeline, whose eyes were filled with tears, smiled lightly at Amelia. She knew this. Amelia reminded her constantly of the support she had in her friends. When the safety of her mother kept her awake at night, it was comforting to be reminded of those bonds.

Without thought, Amelia enveloped Emmeline in an embrace; a reassurance that she would always be there, no matter what.

"Thanks, Lia." Emmeline said, grinning.

"No problem." Amelia said gently.

Amelia listened as Emmeline chatted happily about her time with Amos and how fond she was growing of him, of how she was making top marks in Potions, finally coming out ahead of Alecto Carrow, who was not as daft as she appeared to be. Amelia was only half listening as her friend spoke. The words that Rita had said came flooding back to her. It was almost ironic that Rita should mention the one person that Amelia was now spending the most time with. And it wasn't really that Rita had even said it that made Amelia angry, it was how she said it; so knowingly, so sure of herself. Then again, that was how Rita said everything. Rita tried to irritate anyone and everyone just to get a rise out of them. Still, Amelia dwelled.

"Lia?" Emmeline asked. "Lia? Are you listening?"

Amelia shook her head, Emmeline's voice bringing her back to reality. Offering an apologetic look, Amelia shrugged.

"Sorry, Emme. I was just thinking. Go on."

"No, no." Emmeline said with a wave of her hand. "Please, I'm talking too much as it is. What's going on?"

Amelia stopped before responding. This was her chance to tell Emmeline about what was really going on. It was killing her not being able to talk about it with her best friend in the world. Meeting with Malfoy everyday had become so commonplace; Amelia almost forgot that nearly everyone else was afraid of him. In her own mind, she knew that Emmeline would react with concern and loads of speeches about being careful around him. The façade that Malfoy had everyone else fooled by no longer fazed Amelia. What she was just now coming to understand what that his outward behavior was just that – outward.

Should she tell Emmeline? Most certainly. Amelia hated lying, especially to people she cared about.

But would she? Well …

"Emmeline," Amelia began, biting her lip, "You know how I've been so busy lately? Working all the time and all?" She said as Emmeline nodded, "What I haven't been … I mean, I've really been trying … did I tell you Rita and Xeno are going to the Masquerade Ball?" Amelia blurted out.

"Together? You're kidding?" Emmeline laughed. "Why's that?"

"I wanted him to be there but I knew he wouldn't go alone. So Rita said she'd go if I did her a favor." Amelia explained.

"What favor?" Emmeline asked, raising her eyebrows.

"She didn't say yet." Amelia said slowly. Perhaps she could test Emmeline, she wondered, by slipping Malfoy's name into the conversation casually. "You know, when I was talking to her, she said the strangest thing."

"What's that?"

"She implied that Malfoy and I have something in common." Amelia said tonelessly.

"You do." Emmeline shrugged and Amelia almost fell off her stool. At Amelia's almost offended facial expression, Emmeline laughed. "What I mean is, you both have a large circle of friends, or in his case followers, you both make top marks," Amelia held back a laugh, "you have similar personality traits and the two of you have a disgusting amount of money that goes back for generations."

Amelia hadn't thought about Rita's remark in that sense. Emmeline's facts were accurate. Perhaps Malfoy and Amelia were more alike then she'd like to think. Stubborn, proud, bold. She couldn't deny that these things were true, but something still didn't feel right. Amelia decided that that was enough talk about Malfoy for the day.

"I suppose so." She shrugged.

"Don't worry. Not even Rita would imply a romantic relationship between you and that git."

"True." Amelia nodded. "She's not that low."

Amelia put the thought out of her head for the rest of the evening. She enjoyed her time with Emmeline and indulged in a fruit salad and pumpkin juice. By the time she and Emmeline had left the kitchen, she had forgotten all about Rita's comment. That is, until she realized that she had to meet Malfoy in the Room of Requirement to teach him more about a subject that removed from it's academic context he excelled at.

* * *

Forget It by Breaking Benjamin


	9. Chapter Eight

**Eight.**

There was nothing Malfoy hated more then mysteries. He liked to know everything there was to know about people; their friends, their interests, and especially their families. It wasn't because he was nosey, but because he was curious. Where, he wondered, did these people come from? What talents did they possess? Who did they choose to surround themselves with? All of these questions danced across his brow when in the presence of someone he hardly knew; one person being Rita Skeeter.

Everyone knew who she was and what she was infamous for. But nothing beyond that. Unlike most females he had come into contact with, she had no interest in him whatsoever. Amelia Bones had pent up sexual aggression toward him – he could feel it. But with Rita, there was nothing. At least, that's what he thought before it was revealed to him that Rita had an obsession with his family and lifestyle. While it should have flattered him – and let's be honest, it did – it posed even more questions about the already secretive Skeeter.

Normally, Malfoy wouldn't have thought at all about the gossip but when she approached him in the corridor just as he was about to enter the Great Hall for dinner, the aforementioned thoughts entered his mind.

"Mr. Malfoy." Rita said as she strutted toward him.

Malfoy looked her over, unsure of what to say. The group of Slytherins he was walking with exchanged looks of confusion but eventually turned to Malfoy, awaiting a reply.

"Was there something you wanted?" he asked, a bit agitated.

"Yes." She nodded, unfazed by his rudeness. "Might I have a word with you? Alone?"

Taken aback by her request, he nodded to his friends to go on – Narcissa pouted subtlety and departed behind Alecto. Malfoy folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Rita to get on with her reason for stopping him. When it didn't come, he stated,

"I'm wasting valuable time, Skeeter."

"Of course. Lots of studying to do after dinner." She smirked. Malfoy ignored the irony; while he did plan on meeting Amelia later on in the evening, it did not concern Rita who undoubtedly knew nothing about it. It was a coincidence, something Rita surely thrived on. Though he wondered for a moment if Amelia, being in the same house as the blonde, had let something slip. He quickly shook the thought away. Just because Amelia didn't like Malfoy didn't mean she would betray him. For reasons he didn't care to think about, he trusted her.

"You needed to talk to me about something?" he prompted.

In all honesty, Rita had no intention of asking him anything. She was merely waiting for visual provocation on a pressing matter. In all of her sixteen years, the last six being surrounded by scandal, she had never imagined what may or may not be taking place. She grinned at the very thought, but dare not speak it aloud – she would not jinx this.

Just as Rita was about to open her mouth, she spotted behind Malfoy a group of students; among them Edgar, Nathalia, Elliot, Cordelia, Emmeline, Amos, Kingsley and Amelia.

Malfoy caught Rita's sudden change in attitude and followed her line of sight to the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. His eyes were instantly drawn to Amelia, not because she seemed to be at the center of the group, but because he knew her the best. She was familiar, or becoming so, and there was solace in that. He watched briefly as Kingsley unconsciously wrapped his arm around her waist. There was a slight discomfort that came over Malfoy. Not because he saw Amelia as something other then a tutor, but because that was _all_ he saw her as. When he saw her with her friends, and Kingsley, it was an entirely different side. He had never seen her smile until now, he thought suddenly. Her entire face had changed. It was almost remarkable.

Then, Malfoy reached a harrowing conclusion; the reason he had never seen those positive emotions evoked from Amelia was because when she was around him, she had no reason to express them. Merlin, he thought bitterly. Did being around him make her so miserable?

As Amelia and her entourage entered the Great Hall for dinner, Malfoy turned back to Rita, who smirked.

"What did you want?" he asked, now more agitated then before.

"Oh," Rita said knowingly, "I think I just got it." She concluded, tapping him on the shoulder before entering the Great Hall herself, leaving him both puzzled and annoyed.

When Malfoy took his seat beside Narcissa at the Slytherin table, a knot hit him right in the stomach. It wasn't the meal consisting of chicken in frog sauce with goat cheese, nor was it the sounds and suggestive comments that made up most of Alecto Carrow and Walden MacNair's conversation. It was the vision that fell into Malfoy's line of sight. Sitting sideways facing the front of the hall sat the same person Rita Skeeter had just caught him looking at. But he digressed. None of that meant anything. He merely glanced at a schoolmate; what Rita did with that was none of his business.

Amelia Bones. He thought to himself as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. He knew what the blonde haired Ravenclaw was thinking and she was wrong.

For Malfoy to have an interest in any female there were certain requirements – requirements that the seventeen year old was positive Amelia didn't meet. He recounted the small list of three in his head, just as his father had done not so long ago. One; she must know her place in the Wizarding World – behind her husband. Two; she must have the face of an angel with a heart twice as dark – any woman that could commit a crime and get out of it with a smile was a woman worthy of a Malfoy. And three; she must, of course, have pure blood running through her veins.

Amelia Bones. Malfoy thought again. She met only one of these and not by her own choosing, but by happenstance.

"What are you staring at, love?" Narcissa Black cooed from Malfoy's left.

"Nothing." He said calmly, turning his attention back to his dinner.

"Say," the beauty noted, "Isn't that the girl that fell a few weeks ago? What was her name? Something morbid …" she trailed off. "Bones, was it?" she said, more to herself than to him.

"Yes." He nodded, clearly not wanting to press the subject further. It was not so much talking about Amelia that bothered him. But talking about her with Narcissa was slowly becoming a conflict of interest.

"Fell right into your arms, did she?"

Malfoy knew Narcissa well enough to recognize jealousy coated in her voice even when there was nothing to be envious of. Even though she was a Slytherin, green was not the middle Black daughter's color.

"I wouldn't want a death that could have been prevented on my résumé would I?" he asked absently, cutting his meat on the plate.

"No." she agreed. "But look who we're talking about. A-"

"Pureblood." He finished, setting his utensils down, casting another look at the Ravenclaw table. "Just like you."

"Please, love," she rolled her eyes, "don't insult me."

Malfoy clenched his jaw shut, biting his tongue. The one thing he respected least about his other half who was more like a third at times, was her inability to realize when to stop. She had a very uncanny knack for getting the last word in. She did not like to be trumped by anyone, and at times took things to far. But she had forgotten who she was talking to when she made her last comment; a comment that should not have affected him the way it did. Turning in is seat, Malfoy brought his lips to her ear in an affectionate gesture.

"Better you," he whispered suggestively, "than her."

Rising from his seat, Malfoy straightened his tie and began heading toward the door. Lucky for him, Narcissa did not understand his meaning. What he had said had been a reply to her remark. She however, took it to be a seductive murmur and nothing more. Her ignorance was his fortune sometimes.

Though there was still a solid forty-five minutes left of dinner, Malfoy headed to the Room of Requirement to wait for Amelia who would soon be joining him. He knew this only because during their time together he honed a certain skill for feeling her eyes on him. And as he exited the Great Hall, her gaze bore into his back.

He could have gone to the Slytherin Common Room to kill his stolen time, or even to the lake. Both were logical places to clear ones mind. But neither offered what Malfoy wanted. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts in the one place that he knew carried the essence of the one person he wanted to think about.

–––––––––––––

He was looking at her.

His cold, grey eyes were watching her every move. How she read, how she wrote, how she breathed. And while she should have been paranoid, and maybe even disgusted, she was enjoying it.

Now that they were finally sitting in close proximity to each other, the thought of being so near to someone so undeniably handsome was enough to drive her mad. The smug look on his face whenever she stood near him, his cool laugh when a humorous thought crossed his mind, the demeaning way he looked her over from head to toe as if she were a mere object, it was repulsive.

But then something happened. The wave of animosity has lessened, mainly due to the fact that they rarely spoke to each other; if they didn't communicate, they couldn't fight. One skill that had they each learned to hone was that of conveying messages with facial expressions. Amelia could look at Malfoy and know almost instantly what he was thinking. It was this type of confidence in their partnership that gave Amelia some incentive to relocate her position in the room. She had decided that for all intents and purposes, a more productive way of aiding Malfoy would be to sit beside him. It made sense, after all. How was she supposed to help him if she wasn't close to him?

Malfoy, however, was focusing on more than the assessment she had given him to work on. A mere six inches beside him and he could still smell her; a mixture of ivory and spring – fresh and inviting. Before her change in location, he never really noticed her features. It was as if he were seeing her for the first time. The fullness of her eyelashes, the unusual color of blue that made up her eyes, the cupid's bow of her lips, the sweep of her chocolate tresses around her shoulders. He was not ashamed to say that he found her attractive, but he was, however, a bit abashed to just notice these things.

Glancing back down at his paper, he scanned the sheet of questions written in her sharp and almost sloppy handwriting – so different from his own fluid calligraphy. The questions were not hard, but this was an assessment and, he thought with an inward grin, she was there to help him, which was why he began tapping the end of his quill on the side of the desk, hoping to grab her attention.

Amelia had been going over an essay for Transfiguration on the differences between transfiguring animals and objects when she picked up his annoying tactic. Any time he needed assistance, which wasn't very often, he did it subtly – he never came right out and asked. She supposed that it hurt his pride too much. Sometimes he'd clear this throat, other times he'd pace around the room. Each action would ensue until she finally looked up and asked what was wrong. At the first sound of tapping, she raised her head.

"Yes?" she asked calmly, setting down her own quill.

"Your handwriting is … " he trailed off, glancing down at the marks on the page.

"Atrocious," she nodded with a small smirk, "go ahead, you can say it."

"I was going to say difficult to understand, but that's fair." He concluded, feeling himself grin at her admittance. "What was it you were trying to say here?" he asked, indicating a section of the parchment while clearly pulling the page closer to himself.

Amelia leaned in to look over the paper in an attempt to clarify any clouded information. She scanned the parchment from top to bottom, rereading her own work, looking for any errors but was unable to find any. It was when she turned her head up to look at Malfoy that she realized how close to him she really was. A near breath away from his marble skin, she said softly,

"I can't find any mistake."

Malfoy let his eyes rest upon her own. The look upon her face was both awe and shock. He felt both flattered and discouraged. Amelia Bones looked at the Slytherin with the expression of a doe caught in headlights.

Up until this moment, Amelia had been shockingly good at masking her fear of Malfoy. In his presence, and in general, she had crafted a façade that boldly stated that he did not intimidate her. While that was true for the most part, there was a bit of real fear that she harbored in her heart for the most ill-tempered man in Hogwarts. Looking at him with his careless smirk and porcelain face, Amelia felt a faint glimmer of fear dance across her features. That and another emotion. An emotion that Amelia would never admit to aloud – longing.

"Maybe you're not looking hard enough." He said with an arched eyebrow.

Amelia bit her lip in uncertainty for a moment before sitting up straight. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she shook her head.

"Maybe I should just write them out again." She stated. "Let me get my quill." Amelia began rummaging through papers on the desk, looking for her writing utensil. "I just had it." She mumbled.

Malfoy absently began scanning the desk in an attempt to help her. He watched her delicately lift the parchment and books that covered the tabletop. She was precise, intricate, certain. The more he witnessed of her incessant need for order, the more he wanted to intervene and throw her plans off kilter.

Spotting her quill out of the corner of her eye, Amelia reached for the feather pen, grasping it at precisely the same moment as Malfoy wrapped his fingertips around her own, having spotted the quill as well.

If Amelia had been a fool, she would have let her heart jump a beat and look at Malfoy with a needy expression. She may have even gone as far as to let herself feel a sort of attraction to him and maybe even tilt her head as to invite him to lean in closer.

Thank Merlin that Amelia was not a fool.

Quickly dropping the quill and pulling her hand back to her chest, Amelia rose from her seat.

"Maybe it would be better to start over with a new assessment entirely." She said quickly, more to make herself feel better than to make conversation.

"What ever you feel is best." He nodded cheekily, folding his arms across his chest while leaning back in his chair.

Clearly shaken, Amelia made her way over to the ladder that scaled the bookshelf. Climbing to the fifth shelf of the extensive library that the room possessed, she appeared to be searching for a book but her mind was, indeed, racing. Surely, she thought, he was trying to make her go mad. There was no other explanation as to why he would look at her as if he knew something she didn't or pretend to help her only to hold her hand.

The Malfoy she knew would not do such a thing.

The better part of Malfoy knew that playing with the mind of a naïve Ravenclaw was wrong, that leading her on for his own enjoyment would only result in a debacle, and that his faithfulness to Narcissa Black should not be tested.

But it was not the better part of him in control.

He rose from his seat and shoved his hands into his pockets. It wasn't so much that he had never looked at Amelia before, just not so deeply. He was a man after all, and when something caught his eye, he inspected it thoroughly.

Amelia had chosen an interesting escape, in his personal opinion. She shied away from his touch, and yet decided to climb a ladder, giving him a very adequate view of certain assets she possessed. But he was not a pig, which was why he positioned himself a full four feet away from the base of the ladder giving her both privacy and reassurance that she was not being violated.

She had been so preoccupied thinking about Malfoy that she had forgotten her original plan – she had stepped onto the ground with no text in hand, something the Slytherin did not hesitate to comment on.

"Forgetting something, Bonesie?" he said playfully.

Amelia was about to chastise him for the very childish nickname he had fashioned for her when she looked down at her empty hands.

"Actually," she said matter of factly, having to think on her toes, "I thought we might try something from this book." Amelia reached behind him and pulled a rather heavy textbook off the shelf and thrust it into his hands.

"This?" he said skeptically.

"Yes." Amelia said rolling her eyes.

"You want to use this book?" he asked again, giving her a chance for redemption.

"I didn't stutter." Amelia said agitated.

"This is a book on Transfiguration." He said carefully, showing her the spine of the book which had the words _Changing Species_ written on the side.

"I know." Amelia said after a moment, despite the fact that she was lying through her teeth. "I don't see the harm in bringing in other subjects every once in a while, do you?" she challenged.

Mind, Amelia was not mad at Malfoy, per se. She was angrier with herself, but the reasons were clouded. For letting him get under her skin, for being so quick with remarks, for being so damn attractive.

"I'll tell you what I think about this, Bones." He said taking a bold step closer to her, heaving the book across the room where it landed with a thud. Amelia felt her heart rate spike at the sudden feeling of his breath against her cheek. She wondered for a moment where this was going when she caught sight of his wand out of her peripheral vision. Soundlessly, he transformed the lifeless book into a sleek, black piano. Amelia hardly had time to process what was happening. In the dimly lit space she could see their reflection in the instrument. She was ashamed for even thinking that their silhouette was beautiful.

"Go ahead, _professor_." He said smoothly.

Amelia, mesmerized by how effortlessly he had managed to bring her favorite pastime to the Room of Requirement, was brought back to reality by the word 'professor.' At the end of each week, she turned in progress reports to the tiny charms teacher. They had yet to meet face to face on the matter. She had agreed to meet with Professor Flitwick at the end of one month's lessons to discuss any further tutoring. She had promised to meet with him after dinner. A look of shock on her face, she turned back to Malfoy.

"I have to meet with Professor Flitwick." She said heading for the door. "I completely forgot – I'm late."

"That's alright." He said, tucking his wand back into his vest pocket. "I can wait."

Amelia would have been otherwise bothered by his snide remark but she had other things on her mind.

–––––––––––––

Professor Flitwick sat in his office at his desk, two large stacks of books on either side of him. He was grading papers and tests his had given his fifth years students in order to prepare them for their OWLs. While Amelia did not want to disturb him, she promised to speak with him about Malfoy – something she was not looking forward to. She rapped lightly on the door that stood ajar.

"Professor Flitwick?" she called as his ears perked up at the sound of her voice.

"Come in, Amelia, come in!" he said cheerily, setting his papers aside.

"Good evening, sir." She said politely, taking a seat on a stack of books – one thing that the small man had never invested in were chairs for his students to sit on.

"Good evening, dear. How are you? Can I get you something?" he said indicating his own beverage, cherry syrup with soda pop.

"No thank you, sir. I'm well, and yourself?" she nodded.

"Fantastic!" he grinned. "So, what can I do for you?" he asked, clapping his hands together.

"Oh, right," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm here about Mal – er, Mr. Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy? Ah! Yes!" he remembered. "It's been a month already, has it?"

"Yes, it has." She confirmed.

"Well, then, let me see." He said reaching for a folder on his desk and flipping through the pages. Every once in a while he paused and nodded, grinning from time to time. It appeared to be the reports Amelia had given him, complete with homework assignments, tests scores and observations. Snapping the folder shut and sitting it atop one of his many book stacks, he took of his glasses. "It seems to me that Mr. Malfoy has gotten his priorities in order. He's excelling in all of his classes from what I can gather, mine included. He's prompt to class and your meetings and completes his work. I've yet to see any behavioral problems." He said happily. "Miss Bones, I believe you've done your job well."

"Thank you, sir." Of course Amelia was proud, she had worked hard structuring lesson plans and exams. If anything, she should have felt relieved to have her life back. But there was a part of her that felt a bit confused.

"I see no reason why you should have to give up your free time." He nodded. "As far as I'm concerned, you are no longer obligated to tutor Mr. Malfoy."

Amelia felt a pit in her stomach. It had only been a month, a mere four weeks. She had noticed the seventeen year olds progress but there was more work to be done – there had to be.

"You think so?' she asked.

"I'm sure of it."

"You're positive? Because if you have any doubts, I'd be happy to continue helping him. It's not a problem." She offered.

Professor Flitwick looked at Amelia curiously. He had been teaching at Hogwarts for nearly thirty years and knew all the tricks in the book. He had also known Lucius Malfoy for his entire career as a student, and with that the knowledge of the Slytherin's reputation. Professor Flitwick did not judge his students but that didn't mean he never heard petty gossip about them. He was aware of Malfoy's demeanor and how well, or rather, unwell he behaved with other students. While he did not show it four weeks ago, he had a hunch that the bargain struck between Amelia and Malfoy had been almost entirely the boy's doing. The only reason Professor Flitwick neglected to interrupt was because Amelia was one of his best students and willing to help. But he still assumed that the inevitable animosity would get the better of them. That is, until now.

If anything, he would have thought that Amelia would be happy about her newfound freedom; no longer bound to the Slytherin. And yet she insisted that Malfoy needed more help, and not from another student, but herself.

Clearly, she had another motive.

"Amelia," he said with a small smile, "We both know that Mr. Malfoy is capable of the seventh year workload now that you've helped him to get back on track." He said as Amelia nodded. "He has proven his dedication and commitment to the subject of Charms."

Amelia let out a small sigh and bowed her head. She could not say for sure why she was advocating meeting Malfoy even when she knew it was not necessary. It was just a feeling.

"He doesn't need anymore tutoring." She stated.

"Oh, well," Professor Flitwick said happily, "I know that, and you know that. But Mr. Malfoy on the other hand doesn't." he winked, causing Amelia to feel a lot happier than she should.

–––––––––––––

While he waited, Malfoy decided it wouldn't hurt to finish the rest of the exam, which took him but ten minutes. It was never a question of whether or not he could read them – he could. But he just wanted her that much closer.

With the transfiguration of the piano, it gave the room much more life. He hadn't realized how boring the room was before. It made the room look elegant, and inviting.

Most wouldn't have guessed it but Malfoy was a highly skilled pianist. His father used it as a tool to teach good balance, a keen ear and most of all, common interest – "who doesn't love music?" Arabaxtus would say. It was that quote that ran through Malfoy's mind when he transfigured the book. It was a way to prove to Amelia Bones that he was human.

During the Christmas feast two years ago, Amelia was asked to play. She and her brother's were all taught to play as children much like Malfoy. Amelia, though, took more pride in the skill than her brother's as they thought it was geared more toward females. Malfoy understood their reservations about the instrument. He himself kept it a secret, until now.

Amelia walked through the door exactly thirty minutes later. She had almost forgotten about the piano but it was hard to miss.

"I never had a problem with transfiguration." He explained, leaning against the structure.

There were many things that Amelia loved and playing the piano was one of them. It was an escape for her and one of her deepest passions. She did not keep such information a secret, but still wondered why Malfoy had turned the book into this particular item.

"We still have some work to do." She said, halfheartedly meaning it.

"It can wait." He said, nodding toward the piano. "I was hoping you'd play."

His request made Amelia feel as though her face was on fire. She could not tell if it was embarrassment or desire. Nevertheless, she sat down on the abnormally large bench and set her hands to the cold and familiar keys.

"What song?" she asked, eyes closed.

"Your favorite." He said simply, folding his arms behind his back, standing behind her.

The black and white keys stared back at Amelia, almost requesting to be played. Even if he hasn't asked her to, she would have ended up playing anyway. Running several songs through her mind, Amelia settled on one that reminded her most of Malfoy and began to slowly play Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata.'

Amelia closed her eyes in concentration, letting the music float through the room, consuming her. Her hands moved slowly, stroking each key with purpose and consistency. The song indeed reminded her of Malfoy. His grey eyes and deep voice, the way he seemed to look at her unlike anyone else. The mystery and the intrigue had her attention. But she did not, and would not, let herself feel any attraction. She had Kingsley, and that was enough – it just had to be. Amelia had been so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice Malfoy sit down beside her, although she could smell him, that familiar mixture of peppermint and rain, cold and seductive.

Four weeks ago, Amelia refused to sit on the same side of the room with him, and now she found herself closer to him than she ever expected, but she didn't mind.

It was when he laid his hands on her shoulder that she became aware of just how close their bodies were. He rested his head on her shoulder, near her neck, waiting for a reaction. When she didn't move or waver the symphony, he moved his hands lower over her forearms, wrists and finally hands were he followed her pattern, playing the music along with her.

It was a symphony of sound. Passion was evoked with the strike of each cord. Their hearts beat in tune with the song – their eyes closed, the moment standing still.

Without even knowing it, Amelia had leaned her head against his chest, shifting her position so that she was almost fully leaning on him. Malfoy felt the brush of her hair against his cheek and underneath his chin along with the blue ribbon she wore, a symbol, he took it, of her virtue.

The tune flowed beneath their fingers, slow and enchanting. There had been a barrier between them not so very long ago and somewhere between now and then it had disappeared. The scowls and the sneers had been traded for stolen glances and a longing to be near the other. Why else would Malfoy ask her questions he already knew the answers to if not just to hear the sound of her voice? Likewise, why else but to spend time with Malfoy would Amelia try to convince Professor Flitwick that he needed more help.

There were stories written about unrequited love. But that's all they were – stories. Up until this point, neither Amelia nor Malfoy believed them. They had a plan for their futures, and they did not see each other in that plan.

But as the song came to it's end, they both realized something funny about the future; it can change.

Amelia opened her eyes to look at Malfoy, who followed suit. He was too close to someone he did not see himself with in the future but at the same time, he could not make himself move.

"You don't need anymore tutoring." Amelia said softly. "You're free to go."

Malfoy knew hat all too well, but the remorse in her voice was what stung him. It was almost as if she regretted this news, he thought. For the first time, Malfoy had seen a flicker of true desire run across her delicate features; desire that was directed at him. He would not admit to feeling something for Amelia Bones, but he did feel his heart tug at the prospect of _her_ feeling something for _him_ nonetheless. Leaning just a breath closer, he said,

"Then I'll be seeing you after dinner tomorrow, _Amelia_."

Amelia looked taken aback. All she had ever been to him was Bones. The calling, or rather, spitting, of surnames was part of their relationship. She didn't even think in her own mind anything but Malfoy. Hearing her first name on his tongue sounded foreign, but also comforting.

"Lucius." She said, using the very name he had demanded she never use six weeks ago. When he didn't chastise her, she continued. "Surely you know that everyone calls me Lia."

"Yes." He nodded. "But 'Lia' is not your name."

And with that, Lucius placed his lips to her hair before standing, gathering his books and departing, leaving Amelia feeling short of breath.

* * *

Go Mad by Caleb Kane  
Moonlight Sonata (Piano Sonata No. 14) by Beethoven


	10. Chapter Nine

**Nine**.

The weeks that followed when slower than usual for Amelia. She quietly counted the minutes and events that would give her leave to meet Lucius on the seventh floor. After attending her required lessons, she worked on assignments until dinner. At which time, she would eat her meal in silence, nodding to whatever Kingsley whispered in her ear. And when the right moment came, she would excuse herself and climb the staircase to her newfound haven.

That, however, did not mean that she and Lucius spent their time entangled together. Their meetings were much the same. They studied and asked the other's opinion on their own work. Besides the occasional brushing of shoulders or knees, the was no physical contact – something that was driving the both of them mad.

There was nothing more that Amelia would like than to be kissed by Lucius Malfoy. To feel his hands intertwined with hers, to breathe in the scent of him whenever she wanted to, to spend her days with him and only him and not have to lie about it. The thought plagued her day in and day out.

But there was nothing she could do. It wasn't so much the fact that he was a Slytherin and she was not, nor was it that she was dating Kingsley. Both were things that either did not matter or could be easily fixed. It was that be belonged to, not dated, Narcissa Black, that his life had been crafted for him since the day he was born, that any wrong move on his part would result in backlash from a greater force then his father.

It was, she told herself, for his sake that she keep her hands to herself and only stared long enough to quench her thirst.

Her friends, however, were beginning to notice.

"Lia?" Emmeline asked at dinner. "Why are you looking at Malfoy?"

Amelia found herself doing just that more often, and sometimes, involuntarily. She shook her head and grinned at Emmeline as if nothing was wrong.

"Sorry." She mended. "I just can't help but wonder how a person can harbor such a large skull and still possess no adequate brain power.

"Lia!" Kingsley grinned. "You're terrible!"

"But she has a point." Elliot shrugged nonchalantly.

Amelia grinned and turned back to her dinner. She had fashioned many insults to use against Lucius as a precaution. If anyone, like Emmeline, noticed her staring or simply wondered what she thought of him, she intended to spit the rudest phrases possible. So far it had been working. That is, until Kingsley noticed how little free time she had.

"It's just loads of schoolwork." She said with a sigh for effect. "That's all."

"Emmeline certainly hasn't been bogged down." He said pointedly.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "Part of me has just been distracted." She said, truly regretting how neglectful she'd been.

Kingsley grinned at Amelia softly seeming to understand where she was coming from. Wrapping his strong arms around her, he rested his head atop hers.

"No worries, eh Lia?" he said. "What do you say the two of us get together tomorrow night?"

Amelia pulled away slightly to look at his face. He had asked her on many dates before but his tone was always the same until now. He was eager and anxious for her reply. Any other time, Amelia wouldn't have been so skeptical but she was too short on time to argue. She had promised to meet Emmeline by the lake before dinner.

"That sounds nice." She nodded.

"Brilliant." Kingsley said happily placing a kiss at her temple. "I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" she inquired. "You're already taking me to the Ball. What else could there possibly be?"

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow, love." He teased.

"You win." She huffed playfully. "While I'd love to stay and debate this farther, I have to go meet Emmeline."

"Alright. I doubt I'll be at dinner tonight. Just meet me in the Great Hall tomorrow before dinner." He said with a wink.

"Sorry?" she asked, puzzled. "Before dinner?"

"We have to meet early." He explained. "It could take all evening." He beamed, before departing, leaving Amelia both confused and disheartened. Meeting with Kingsley – or anyone else – after dinner meant that she would not be seeing Lucius, which was something that greatly troubled her.

"Amelia!" Emmeline called from behind the brunette. "There you are!"

Amelia whirled around to see Emmeline coming toward her, Edgar and Elliot in tow.

"Hey Em." Amelia greeted. "I thought you wanted to get together just us girls, unless these two have been keeping a secret from me."

"Well, would you take a look at that, Elliot." Edgar said mockingly. "It tells jokes!"

"No kidding. Let's see if we can get her to tell another one, eh?" Elliot jeered.

"Shove off." Amelia said sweetly.

"Nevermind them. They followed me down here. Said they needed to talk to you." Emmeline shrugged.

"About what?"

"Merlin knows." Emmeline said absently.

"Mum wrote us." Elliot explained. "Well, you, actually. She didn't really write, now that I think about it-"

"What he means," Edgar interrupted, casting Elliot a playful smirk, "is that mum sent you a package."

"Of what?"

"I dunno. It felt like dress robes." Edgar shrugged.

"For the Ball?" Amelia asked more to herself though Elliot nodded. "But I already have a gown."

"Take it up with her." Edgar suggested. "Anyway, I had Nathalia put it on your bed for you."

"Thanks." Amelia nodded as the two boys turned to leave.

"Where're you headed?" Emmeline called after them.

"To meet Nathalia and Cordelia." Amelia explained as the two girls began walking in the opposite direction.

"On Thursday?"

"Every night is date night for those to." Amelia said with a sigh.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"For a senior citizen, no. Not at all. For a seventeen and fifteen year old, of course." Amelia shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems to me that they ought to be living a little bit more. Their lives are just so … "

"Planned?"

"Yes."

"But so is yours in a way." Emmeline said pointedly.

"Unfortunately." Amelia sighed.

"But what more could you want? You have this … amazing family that would go to the ends of the earth for you, a set of the most loyal friends – myself included – and a boyfriend that loves you." Emmeline grinned.

Amelia stopped in her tracks at the word 'love.' It had hardly been a month since she and Kingsley had started seeing each other. He hadn't even said it aloud to her yet. Love was not something that Amelia felt for Kingsley. Care, of course. Adoration, absolutely. But for Amelia to fall in love with someone, it was going to take more then a charming smile and a few compliments.

"Is something the matter, Lia?"

"No, I-" she shook her head. "Kingsley's not in love with me."

"Are you daft?" Emmeline teased. "The way he looks at you _all the time_. And he's always asking Edgar and me about you when you're not around. I heard a group of Gryffindors say that if they heard the name 'Amelia Bones' one more time they were going to commit mutiny."

Amelia did not laugh alongside her friend. If anything, she was scared. Not only did this mean that Kingsley's 'surprise' was most likely intimate, it meant that Amelia did not reciprocate the emotion.

"Merlin." Emmeline breathed. "You really had no idea, did you?"

"No." Amelia whispered while shaking her head.

"What are you going to do?" Emmeline bit her lip.

What could she do? Having already agreed to date him, Amelia more or less bound herself into a courtship. At the time, she assumed that she'd learn to love Kingsley. But something happened.

She had seen how giddy and excited Emmeline would get when she was around Amos. The affection that they felt for each other was visible. But Amelia had never shown such enthusiasm toward Kingsley, ever. However, she did know one thing; they way Emmeline looked on the outside at Amos was the way Amelia felt on the inside about Lucius. And that was one fact that terrified her.

–––––––––––––

Amelia only visited with Emmeline long enough to be sufficient before foregoing dinner and heading to the Room of Requirement. She listened to Emmeline speak of how happy she was with Amos and how much she enjoyed his company. The light in her eyes and the emotion in her voice were apparent. For several reasons, Amelia was envious. The one person Amelia should have such a reaction to was someone she couldn't, and the one person she shouldn't have such a reaction to was the one person she could. It was a conundrum that she would rather not think about. However, when she stumbled into the Room of Requirement, the vision that fell into her line of sight was not something she counted on seeing.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted without thought.

"Jolly good to see you, too." Lucius replied sarcastically, closing the book he was reading and rising from his seat. "This is a public domain."

"Sorry." She mumbled, looking at him uncomfortably. "I just fancied being alone is all."

Lucius looked at her carefully, desperately searching her face for an expression. Clearly she was preoccupied but he couldn't be sure of what. He rightly assumed that it wasn't a family matter, lest she be mending the situation instead of running. Likewise with Emmeline Vance. No, he thought. This was more complex.

Lucius had finally admitted to himself that he found Amelia intriguing. Her innocence and bravery had caught his attention almost immediately but it was the air of mystery about her that drew him in. He knew absolutely nothing about her besides the given and the fact that she was beautiful. Not in the modern sense, but in the classic and natural sense.

He himself had sought out a place to be in solitude. The main reason being to get away from his surroundings and who he was supposed to be; the leader, the loyal, the future husband of Narcissa Black. It was the latter thought that helped him reach his final conclusion as to what Amelia Bones could possibly be running from.

"When you say alone," he said, placing his book down on one of the many tables, running his long fingers over the spine, "you mean as far away from Kingsley Shacklebolt as possible."

Amelia's head shot up almost instantly. He couldn't have been more correct than if he could read minds. Had he not been so direct – and so much a part of the problem – she may have answered him. As it was, he was half of the equation and she refused to let him figure the rest out.

"That's a bit personal." She said with a small sigh.

"But I'm right, aren't I?" he pressed.

"Why are you here?" she retorted.

Lucius raised his eyebrows, mildly impressed by her quick tongue. One of the things that appealed to him most about Amelia was that she, unlike the rest of the students at Hogwarts, questioned him. His friends and housemates saw everything he did as the right move, a model. But Amelia treated him like she would anyone else; she made him feel like a human being.

"Keeping my distance from the same person you are." He answered calmly.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, slightly confused. "Why are you avoiding Kingsley?"

"So you _are_ avoiding him." He nodded.

Amelia rolled her eyes, though she did find a bit of humor in his tactic.

"Well?"

"No." he shook his head. "I don't plan on playing chess with the bloke but I'm not going out of my way to keep away from him. Bu you had the right idea." He said, simply waiting for Amelia to put the pieces together.

"I don't understand." She said with a shake of her head.

"Let me put it this way," he said evenly, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "You are to Kingsley, as I am to-"

"Narcissa." Amelia finished in a whisper, brushing her hair away from her eyes. She was uncomfortable with this knowledge, this common ground that they shared. But it posed another question. "Why are you staying away from her?"

Lucius kept his mouth shut, refusing to speak aloud his truthful purpose. He did, however, answer her with his eyes; he let his gaze bare into her, as if he was screaming his motive inside his head. It did not take Amelia long to figure it out.

"I'd just rather," he shrugged, "Spend my precious time with someone else." He said vaguely, though she knew exactly what he meant.

Amelia did not wish to address his reasons now or ever if she could help it. Instead, she crossed the room to where the piano was and sat down on the bench. Looking down at the keys, she waited for Lucius to sit beside her.

There were certain things that didn't need to be spoken aloud. That Lucius felt more comfortable with Amelia then he had anyone was one. She had seen more of him then anyone else had and not on purpose, it was coincidence. She knew he preferred to sleep when it rained, that his favorite color was actually blue and, unlike a proper English gentleman, he hated tea. They were small things, but just the same, she was the only person in the world to know them and that was an idea he could get used to.

Following her lead, he sat down at the piano on her right and placed his hands so that his left arm was wrapped around her back. Music had become their sanction. While many would have just heard the sound of Für Elise echoing throughout the room, Lucius and Amelia heard the sound of each other's heartbeat, begging to let the other in.

–––––––––––––

Kingsley had blind folded Amelia once again. She tried to tell him to trust her to keep her eyes closed but he didn't want to take any chances. It was the Friday night before the Ball, which fell on a Sunday, and it was an evening that Amelia had been dreading since she departed from Lucius the night before. But, she thought regrettably, she made a promise.

"Kingsley. I'm having déjà vu. Where are we going?"

They met in the Great Hall as planned and he had been there waiting, a grin a mile wide on his face and his eyes uncommonly soft. Just as he had before, he led her through various corridors and stairways to ensure that she lost her place in the castle – which she did.

"How much farther?" she said with a sigh. "We've been walking for twenty minutes."

"It's just around the corner." He promised.

Kingsley forced Amelia to stop and she heard him fumble with a latch that undoubtedly belonged to a door. Taking her hand, he led her into a room, letting the door fall shut behind them.

"Where are we?" she asked, her vision still blackened.

"You'll see." She could hear the grin in his voice as he stepped in front of her to take the blindfold off. "You're sure you're ready? Because I can wait if you want-"

"Kingsley!" she protested, grinning.

"Alright." He said with a laugh, untying the knot and disposing of the cloth.

Amelia opened her eyes to look at the location and she felt her heart fall into her stomach. The room was lit with candles, some perched on tables, others atop a mantelpiece with a fire in the hearth, a few were charmed to float overhead. In the middle of the room sat a large four poster bed, complete with curtains that were tied back and what seemed like a dozen pillows laying on deep crimson sheets.

Amelia turned to Kingsley who beamed at his hard work – the effort was written all over his face.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around, speaking carefully.

"It was an unused class room at one point. I was doing rounds a few weeks back and Professor McGonagall asked me to see if the room was worth any use. Naturally, I told her no." he grinned. "I explained that after some sprucing it would be great, but it could take at least a month. So I touched it up a bit." He grinned, leaning against the mantel.

"You did." She nodded, offering a bit of a grin. "So, what's all this?" she asked, indicating the candles and romantic atmosphere.

"It's nothing." He said dismissively. "But this," he said nodding to the far corner of the room "is enchanting."

Amelia followed his direction and noticed for the first time the charmed violin that had been playing. She just now noticed the haunting tune.

"What do you think?" he asked nervously.

Amelia smiled softly, tilting her head with interest at the object.

"It's beautiful, King. Really, it is."

"I always thought that the violin was the most romantic instrument."

Amelia immediately thought of playing the piano with Lucius seated beside her. The feel of his skin dancing across her, his breath against her cheek, the intimacy that clung to them like static.

And suddenly, Amelia felt guilty. Here she was with her boyfriend, about to embark on the upmost level of commitment and intimacy and she was thinking about Lucius.

Kingsley stepped in front of Amelia, taking her hands in his, locking his gaze on her. The flames, his eyes inviting, adorned his caramel complexion. It was here that Amelia drew the parallels in her mind between the man that stood before her and the man she wished to stand beside.

Kingsley's skin was warm and welcoming, while Lucius' was icy and forewarning. Kingsley had a strong scent of fall about him, a month that brought about changes. Lucius harbored a fragrance of winter, a time for dying. And then, just as Amelia did when she agreed to sacrifice her free time with Lucius, she thought of Robert Frost and his poem, _Fire and Ice_. The meaning of the poem struck her hard – Frost claimed that both resulted in death and left the reader to decide which was worse.

"Amelia." Kingsley said, threading his fingers through hers. "Are you ready?"

Amelia cast another look around the room, noting that it would be in these surroundings that her life could very well change if she let it. She would be cementing her future with Kingsley Shacklebolt and ensuring her happiness for the future.

Amelia offered him a soft smile and kissed him lightly.

–––––––––––––

The following evening, Amelia ventured to the Room of Requirement to meet Lucius at their usual time just after dinner had ceased. Her day had been longer than usual, particularly because of the previous night. Kingsley grinned more than usual and kept an arm around her at all times, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Nathalia, Cordelia and Emmeline and even Rita had tried to corner Amelia for details but thankfully ringing bells, teachers and other students interrupted their ambushes.

At dinner, Kingsley sat uncommonly close to her, receiving praise worthy looks from several of his Gryffindor friends. Edgar concealed a silent satisfaction that things had finally fallen into place. Elliot refused to think about his sister 'cementing' anything but he was happy as long as she was happy.

For the most part, Amelia was quiet and reflective. She did not want to bring much attention to herself, she felt that it was no one's business. Just the same, she tossed an appeasing grin at Kingsley throughout the day in appreciation for his silence on the matter. She had asked him to keep the details private and he obliged. Though, she looked forward to the end of the day when she could escape to the Room of Requirement.

Amelia had opened several texts for her Potions assignment and began taking feverish notes. She had been working for nearly an hour before Lucius waked in; Amelia did not lift her gaze or waver in her note taking.

"You're late." She said tonelessly.

Lucius dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thud, clearly agitated. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets before walking calmly to the edge of the desk.

"I got a bit caught up in other matters." He explained, waiting for her reply. When it didn't come, he continued, "You see, throughout the day, I've heard several rumors."

"Well," she said after a moment, "it's a big school with lots of students. You're bound to hear something."

"About Bertha Jorkins or Hestia Jones, sure." He nodded. "But about you and Kingsley Shacklebolt?" he said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk. "That's another story."

"I see," was all Amelia said in response seeing no point in pushing the envelope.

Lucius felt his temper rise at her lack of conversation – he had been counting on this address since breakfast when word first reached his ears that Amelia and Kingsley had finally slept together. He almost choked on his orange juice and he didn't understand why. In fact, the reason he was so late was because he was trying to calm himself down at the lake before coming face to face with her. Again, he didn't understand it. Why the events that had ensued between herself and Kingsley had plagued his thoughts, he didn't know.

"That's all you have to say." He prompted.

Amelia sighed and laid down her quill before speaking.

"He's my boyfriend; surely you expected our names to come up in the same sentence."

It had been the first time he had ever heard Amelia properly call Kingsley her boyfriend. Of course he knew of their relationship but it had always been an unspoken truth – he preferred it that way.

"Is it true?" Lucius said without thinking.

The question had been burning through his skull all day and he had to know. He was skeptical – she spent her free time with him all the time, not Kingsley. What possible connection did they possess? _Kingsley_ didn't watch her make herself hot chocolate late at night to help keep herself awake, ___Kingsley_ didn't roll his eyes at her whenever she licked her fingers to turn a page, ___Kingsley's_ pulse didn't spike when she looked him directly in the eye. Lucius had an edge over Kingsley whether he liked it or not.

"Is what true?" she asked without emotion.

Lucius clenched his teeth together, growing even more irritated by the minute. She knew exactly what he was talking about and her innocent act was wearing on his nerves.

"You and Shacklebolt." He said firmly.

Amelia halfheartedly expected this to be Lucius' reaction. She would not admit it aloud but should their positions had been reversed, she would have played the interrogator, too. But that did not mean she would have expected him to give her answers she herself refused to let slip.

"You're going to have to be more specific the that."

"Goddammit, Amelia!" he shouted, slamming her book shut, leaning over her. "Answer me!"

Amelia stood up immediately, crossing over to the opposite side of the desk while Lucius followed.

"I don't own you any explanation." She seethed with him at her heels. "You are _not_ my keeper." Amelia rounded on him, his gaze hard, intent. "What happens between me and Kingsley or anyone else for that matter outside of this room is none of your damn business." She spat. "You'd do well to learn that now." She finished, shoving past him, standing at the edge of the desk, shuffling through papers, attempting to look busy.

Lucius ran his hand over his face, regaining his composure. He liked to think that he knew Amelia well. He didn't need a formal answer from her to confirm his speculation – one look would do it. Thankfully, he knew what measure to take to get said look.

"Fine." He glowered, folding his arms across his chest. "I do have one question, though."

Amelia sighed heavily, setting the papers down. He was too stubborn for his own good, she thought.

"What?" she said with a tight jaw, her back to him.

"Well," he began, "What with his tremendous experience and your considerable lack thereof, I'm just curious; did it hurt?"

"You vile pig!" she shouted, pulling her wand from her sleeve, closing the eleven foot gap between them. Just as quickly, he managed to grab hold of her shoulders, forcing her to keep still. "If you say another word, so help me Merlin-" she said, wriggling in his grip.

"You didn't do it did you?" he said suddenly.

Lucius saw the look in Amelia's navy eyes; the desperation, the regret, it was perfectly clear. If there was one person he knew well enough to know when they were lying – which wasn't often – it was Amelia Bones.

Amelia stopped short, snapping her mouth shut. Silently putting her wand away, she lowered her eyes from his scrutinizing gaze, making her way to where she stood before.

"Did you, Amelia?" he asked louder, but she refused to answer. "We can keep doing this-"

"No." she said sharply, finally looking up at him. "I didn't."

–––––––––––––

Amelia offered Kingsley a soft smile and kissed him lightly.

"Wait." Kingsley said suddenly, grinning. "I have something for you."

Amelia watched him walk to the bedside table drawer and pull out a small box. His face was bright and anticipatory.

Amelia's breath remained even. She had half expected him to give her something, not because she wanted him to but because that was like him.

She gathered enough from Edgar's less than subtle hints that Kingsley saw Amelia in his extended future, a fact that was comforting and also terrifying. At seventeen years old, he should not have been making such plans and at sixteen, Amelia should not have to be a part of them.

"Here." He said, handing her the box covered in red velvet.

"Kingsley." She said gently. "You shouldn't have done this."

"I wanted to, Lia." He replied, brushing her hair back behind her ear. "Please, open it."

Amelia nodded and lifted the lid off the box to reveal a white-gold necklace with a single charm; a silver heart with a butterfly on it's side. The butterfly's wings held diamonds – the top of it's wings red rubies, the bottoms sapphires – red and blue.

"Kingsley." Amelia said after a moment of admiring its beauty. "Thank you."

The Gryffindor entire face seemed to light up at her reaction. Elation ran deep across his features.

Placing a light kiss on her cheek, Kingsley lifted his gift to her from the box and fastened it around her neck. "I love you, Lia." He whispered.

Amelia knew she was supposed to say those same words back, but she couldn't make herself do it. Instead, she turned to face him, capturing his lips in an engaging kiss.

"Lia?" he said, nodding to the four poster.

Amelia knew that her sense of judgment had always been good and had a way of proving itself. Her gut feeling was always right, and as she stood beside Kingsley, ready to place something in his hands that she could never, ever get back, she felt the need to be honest with herself.

Amelia did not love Kingsley, and did not want to spend her life with him. He was a safe zone for her – someone who would always take her back, no matter what. She could go and live freely and something told her he would wait.

"Kingsley." She said slowly. "I don't think I'm ready for this."

She told herself that she was not lying. Taking the step he wanted her to take was something she was not ready for with anyone. Neglecting to tell him she didn't want to be with him at all could wait until after the Ball.

"I understand, Lia." He said nodding, sincerity in his voice. "I won't make you do anything you're not ready for. We'll have plenty of time for that in the future." He said, running his thumb over her necklace, which may as well have been an engagement ring.

For reason's Amelia did not want to address, even in her own mind, she desperately wanted to be in the Room of Requirement with a man so different then the one that stood before her. Quietly, she wondered that if given time, she would find herself in the same situation with Lucius. Something told her that if Lucius offered himself to her, she would not say no.

–––––––––––––

Amelia bowed her head, almost in shame. It seemed as though she was using Kingsley – keeping him at an arm's length until she wanted him. But that wasn't true at all. Amelia cared about Kingsley, but not in the way he and everyone else thought.

"You bloody hypocrite." Lucius criticized.

"Excuse me?" Amelia said, turning, furious.

"All this preaching you do to 'stand up for yourself' and 'don't let anyone live for you' and here you are letting Shacklebolt parade around like he's won some grand prize with you!"

"You don't know anything-"

"The hell I don't! You wouldn't even look me in the eye!"

"_You_ don't have anything to do with this!" Amelia yelled taking steps closer to him. "What does it matter anyway! I'm as good as married to him!" she said, ripping the necklace from her throat and thrusting it into his hands. "What does it matter if I shag him now or five years down the road?" she said sadly, turning back to the desk. "It doesn't."

Busying herself with work again, Amelia pulled an inkwell from the desk drawer and set it on the edge of the cherry wood. Lucius was quiet, too quiet, as he looked over the gift. With her back to him, it was hard for Amelia to assess what he was thinking.

"Why do you care about it anyway?" she thought suddenly, but still maintained her distance.

It shouldn't matter to Lucius if Kingsley and Amelia did anything. It was their business, and it shouldn't have affected him, but it did. He gritted his teeth at the thought of someone else's hands on hers. He shouldn't think about what it would be like to tuck her hair behind her ear. He shouldn't desperately want to punch Kingsley Shacklebolt in the face. He shouldn't, Lucius thought, do what he was aching to do.

"I don't." he said firmly, tossing the necklace on the table, turning to walk away.

Amelia wrapped her right hand over the necklace, bowing her head once again. So that was that. He really _didn't_ care, she thought bitterly. Well, good. That was one less thing she had to worry about.

She had just lifted the cap off the inkwell when she felt Lucius grab her arm and spin her into him. His body was pressed against her and she was suddenly aware of all of her senses. She could see the exact curve of his lips, the crease of his eye, the angle of his cheekbones. The magnitude of her feelings for him more than doubled. She let her mouth fall open in both surprise and invitation.

Lucius let his hands drift inches from her waist. The depth of her eyes had him enthralled, motionless – something Narcissa Black could never achieve. He was tired of pretending that Amelia Bones did not center around his daily thoughts, dreams and decisions. Silently, he recalled the list of standards that his father had created in regards to whether or not a woman was worthy of a Malfoy; a willingness to stand behind her husband, the possession of beauty to ensure that she got her way and no conscience to feel guilty about it and of course, Pureblood. Amelia Bones only met one of Arabaxtus Malfoy's standards.

Thank Merlin, Lucius thought, that he did not give a damn about his father's standards.

In one swift breath, Lucius crashed his mouth against hers, unraveling a thread of desperation and lust that neither could now deny existed.

Amelia slipped backward against the structure out of surprise but caught herself just in time as Lucius lifted her up onto the desk. Supporting herself, Amelia knocked over the open inkwell with her right hand and clutched Lucius' shirt to keep from falling back.

Lucius entangled his hands in her hair, breathing in her scent, his hands exploring her waist, thighs, stomach. His breath was hot against her neck and he thought for sure that his lungs must burst.

Amelia threw her head backward as Lucius placed his mouth to her throat. This was madness, she thought for a brief moment but she quickly gave herself over to the frenzy. She couldn't fight herself on this any more; she wanted to be with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius pulled her tightly against him, his hands now holding her in place, as if to keep her from moving away from him.

But Amelia did not want to move. She let herself slip into the curve of his body, to revel in the fact that she could touch his skin, kiss his jawline, see the true color of his eyes – which were closed.

Lucius spun Amelia around so that his back was now against the desk. He ran his hands over her neck and shoulders, committing each part to memory.

Amelia locked her hands around his neck, her mind racing. She couldn't help but wonder what they looked like from afar.

Intertwined in an embrace, lustful and needy, Lucius moved his lips back to hers, nearly biting her bottom lip in his eagerness. She responded with just as much fever; running her tongue over his own, moaning lightly into his mouth. She was kissing Lucius Malfoy. _She was kissing Lucius Malfoy._

Suddenly, Amelia broke away, her eyes flying open, the reality of the situation hitting her. She hadn't meant to do that, any of it. She shook her head, her hands flying to her mouth as if she had uttered an unthinkable sentence.

"Oh my God." She breathed, looking at his face, full of longing.

**This was real.**

Amelia spun around quickly, reaching for the exit. Before Lucius could utter a word to stop her, she had already flung herself out the door. She clutched the doorknob from the outside as if to keep Lucius from following her. Her breathing was heavy and she felt her eyes well slightly. She couldn't want Lucius. She shouldn't want Lucius. But she did, she thought as she sank to the floor, she did.

Lucius looked at the door through which Amelia had made her departure, his hands clenching into fists. He was out of line and not because he had kissed her; because he had kissed someone other than Narcissa. While he should have felt a twinge of guilt at the very least for turning against his betrothed, he didn't. What he did feel was a mixture of longing and remorse. Longing because he wanted more of her, more time, anything just to be near her. And remorse for not holding her closer – he could still feel her in his arms, her lips molding to his, the imperfection of their kiss and how messy and satisfactory it had been, all at once.

Swearing loudly, Lucius turned, angrily shoving the books and papers from the desk. Gripping the sides of the desk, he hung his head.

Tomorrow night was the Masquerade Ball. Amelia would be dancing with Kingsley, but it would be Lucius' face in her mind.

Lucius would be in attendance with Narcissa but it would be Amelia's blue eyes that he wouldn't be able to tear himself away from.

He looked down at his shirt and sighed at the irony; Amelia's handprint was stamped across his chest, just above his heart.

* * *

Unknown Soldier by Breaking Benjamin


	11. Chapter Ten

**Ten.**

All Hollow's Eve arrived on a Sunday night, and just as it had for years, Hogwarts played host to the annual Masquerade Ball. Students between years five and seven were invited to attend. Anyone below year five was welcome to attend as long as they were escorted by a member of the upper-class.

The previous night had not left Amelia's mind and part of her didn't want it to. The feel of Lucius' mouth against her own had numbed her beyond logical thought. She would not have been so bothered by it if she were not forced to see him in less than an hour.

Of course he would be at the Ball – it was a given. He had to keep up appearances, it was expected. He would be there with Narcissa, and she with Kingsley.

It was paradoxical – she had let herself fall into a relationship with Kingsley when she didn't really want one. And as much as she enjoyed his company, it did not compare to the fixation she had with Lucius, not even a bit.

The package her mother had sent was, as her brothers guessed, a dressing gown. Even though Amelia already had one, it did not compare to the gift.

It was a royal blue evening gown that swept the floor, giving Amelia just enough room to walk and dance without tripping. The sheer blue fabric hung off the shoulder and came to meet in the back in the formation of a bow. The neckline curved against the swell of her breasts. An embroidery trailed up the side of the gown in the form of flowers, morning glories. Adelina Bones knew her daughter's taste well.

Amelia's eyes had been lined and lidded with a smoky gray eye shadow and her lips were glossy but pale. Her hair fell around her shoulders in large, soft curls, with her signature blue ribbon tied in the back and Kingsley's gift hung from her neck.

She may have thought Lucius a handsome man but she did not belong with him – at least, that's what she had been trying to convince herself of for the past 24 hours.

Amelia rose from her seat at the foot of her bed and descended into the Common Room where the other girls were waiting. Edgar had ushered Elliot and Xeno into the corridor with Amos and Kingsley to wait for their dates. Edgar insisted the ladies to make a grand entrance.

Nathalia and Cordelia, much like Amelia, donned blue gowns that swept the floor, though the shades we lighter and the make different. Emmeline wore a satin gold gown that pleated at her ankles, hugging her curves, elegance played across her own classic features. Rita had chosen to show off a bright red cocktail dress – her motto clearly being 'subtle is just not my style.'

"There you are." Emmeline said, turning to face Amelia. "We were beginning to wonder what you were doing up there."

"A few minor adjustments." Amelia nodded. "You look fantastic, Emmeline." Amelia said earnestly, truly in awe of her best friend.

"Lia," Emmeline shook her head, "You shouldn't lie."

"I never lie-" Amelia began but stopped short, the weight of her words falling on her shoulders. She never used to lie, but her list of tales was becoming infinitesimal. Where she was, who she was with, what she was doing, why she kept staring at Lucius. Shaking her head quickly, she mended, "Honestly, Em. You look beautiful."

"Thank you, Lia." Emmeline blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Erm - we'd better get going. We don't want to keep the boys waiting too long."

"She's right." Amelia agreed while Nathalia and Cordelia headed for the door. Rita simply rolled her eyes and checked the polish on her nails.

"I'll bet Xeno's eyes are just ready to ogle me." Rita said sarcastically.

Almost immediately, everyone broke into pairs. Nathalia and Cordelia instinctively flocked to their boyfriends. Emmeline exchanged low whispers with Amos and Rita stood beside Xeno, tapping her foot impatiently. While Amelia would have much rather proceeded to the Great Hall as a group, her only option at any entrance seemed to be on Kingsley's arm.

Kingsley wore dark dressing robes and if one looked close enough, they could see the deep crimson. He looked handsome, of course, and bolder than ever. Upon seeing Amelia, his face broke into a grin, his entire being lighting up.

"Ah, Amelia," he cooed, "You're breath taking." He said, placing a light kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you, Kingsley." She smiled softly, meeting his eye only once.

"I see you're wearing my gift." He nodded.

Amelia's right hand immediately flew to the charm that hung from her neck, her fingers tracing the shape and delicate jewels.

"Yes." She nodded. "Of course I am."

"You wear it well." He replied, cupping his hand over hers as she clutched the charm.

Kingsley's eyes spoke a sort of understanding, an understanding that he would not have given her the gift if he knew what Amelia took it to mean. He did not want her to feel stuck with him, but that's exactly how she felt. Sighing inwardly, Amelia wrapped her mind around a solid fact; regardless of what she wanted, she was attending the Ball with Kingsley. Kingsley, the man she was supposed to love, who everyone wanted her to love, who she even wanted to love but couldn't. She thought only a few short weeks ago that she could force herself to feel something other than friendship for him. That if she held his hand and kissed him tenderly and said the right things, her heart would suddenly yearn for him.

But that night, the ultimate romantic ambush that Kingsley had set up, Amelia realized something important; love is spontaneous and unexpected. Love means nothing when you see it coming and it takes various forms. And for Amelia Bones, love had taken the form of a blonde haired Slytherin. But whether or not she would let herself slip into it was another thing.

"We should probably be heading down." Edgar announced to the group as everyone followed his lead in a grand procession to the Great Hall.

The trip to the Entrance Hall was short and they ran into several other groups along the way; Alice Parker and Frank Longbottom, Hestia Jones and Jonathan Creevy, Gideon Prewett and Gwenog Jones as well as a very jealous Bertha Jorkins alongside Fabian Prewett.

At Bertha's harsh stares, Kingsley gripped Amelia's hand, whispering, 'I think she may turn green.' While Amelia should have been offended by the Gryffindor girl's behavior, Kingsley's mention of the color green made her stomach turn, and she immediately scanned the hall for any signs of Lucius. Much to her dismay, however, he did not appeared to have arrived yet. She sighed lightly upon stepping into the Great Hall, which distracted her thoughts.

"Merlin." Emmeline breathed. "It's positively magnificent!"

"Dumbledore has really outdone himself this year." Cordelia grinned.

"He sure has." Edgar agreed.

In the four corners of the room hung banners of each house's color; red, blue, green and yellow. The ceiling has been transformed to resemble the very night on which the Ball fell. The costumes were what really added to the magic that captivated the night; a sea of satin mixed with burgundys, emeralds, golds and sapphires. It was clear that most students chose to pay homage to their own house with their attire. Amelia naively thought that said fact would make it much easier to find Lucius. What she would do once she found him, she knew - nothing. There was no way they could be seen together, much less have an actual relationship. But that did not mean that she didn't want one. She did, but it was, she assumed, better to look and not touch.

She did not have to look long. By the doorway, she spotted one of the most elegant gowns she had ever seen. And Narcissa Black was wearing it. By her side stood Lucius, looking as tall and as regal as ever. A horde of Slytherins stood behind them including Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Walden MacNair, Astoria Greengrass, Evan Rosier and others. Amelia smirked inwardly at the thought of the group without Lucius at the front – they would be nothing more than a school of lost fish. Almost instantly, Lucius caught Amelia staring; he had been looking for her as well.

Anyone else would have missed the slight nod he gave her. It was short and in the direction of the opposing corridor. Because so much of their relationship had been based on silent communication, she understood immediately what he was asking.

"Kingsley," Amelia said with more cheer than she had used ever before, "I left my mask in the Common Room. I'm just going to go get it."

"I'll go with you." He offered.

"No, no. Don't be silly." She said with a wave of her hand. "It's not that far. Besides, I wouldn't want you to miss out on the mingling with your friends."

"Really, Lia. I don't mind."

"Kingsley." Amelia grinned. "I'll be fine."

Kingsley looked at Amelia for a moment before nodding and kissing her lightly on the cheek. When Amelia turned to leave, she noticed how she almost pulled away from him eagerly and immediately felt bad. It was almost as if she were seeing Lucius behind his back. In reality, the situation was almost reversed; she felt guilty for spending time with Kingsley, too.

With one final look at Kingsley, Amelia turned her attention to the direction that Lucius had nodded toward, trying to appear as absent as possible. She wandered through her fellow classmates. She took in how in love some of them appeared to be. So eager to embark on that aspect of their life. Amelia felt a twinge of jealousy. She couldn't even let herself feel that sacred emotion of love. At least, not with whom she should.

Finally out of the way of students, Amelia rounded a corner and found Lucius leaning against the opposing wall, his arms folded across his chest. If anything, Amelia thought he resembled the muggle cinema star James Dean. Amelia knotted her hands together, unsure of whether or not to approach him. She didn't have to; he broke the silence first.

"You're beautiful." He said, his voice low, almost inaudible.

Amelia felt her cheeks flush at his comment. It had been the first genuinely nice thing he had said to her, but the way he said it made her sense that he had been thinking it long beforehand. Just the same, it sounded foreign on his lips.

"It's just the dress." She protested softly.

"No," he said with a shake of his head, beginning to close the gap between them. "I don't mean just tonight. I mean all the time. When you're studying …when you're chastising me …" he grinned, "when you're doing nothing at all."

Amelia tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes focused on the floor, on anything but Lucius because she knew that if she looked at him, a floodgate holding back all of her thoughts would open and it needed to stay closed.

"You're here with Narcissa." She said calmly. "You should probably go find her."

"If I wanted to be with Narcissa, I would be." He said evenly.

"But you should want to be. You should want to be with her, like I should want to be with Kingsley." She stressed, as if she were trying to make herself believe it.

"Amelia-" Lucius began as he tentatively took another step toward her.

"No." she shook her head. "Don't say my name like that."

"Like what?" He said, thought he already knew what she was going to say next.

"Like you want to. Because if you want to, then I'll want you to-"

"You're not making sense-" he began again.

"Please," she sighed, "Just let me get this out." Amelia took a small breath before continuing, averting her eyes from the pair she desperately wanted to look at. "You shouldn't call me by my name the way you do. You shouldn't spend all of your time with me and you certainly," she stressed, "shouldn't look at me the way you do."

"Because?" he said after a moment, thoroughly unphased at her plea.

"Because I want you to."

Quite obviously, Amelia did _not_ want Lucius to stop thinking about her but she had to impress that he do so. Even though it wasn't really against her own morals to engage in a schoolyard romance with a potential killer, she knew her friends and family would be a hair less than thrilled. Moreover, Amelia wasn't strong enough to will herself to stop thinking about him. If she genuinely believed that he didn't care, then it would be easier to convince herself that she didn't either.

Even though Amelia refused to look at him, Lucius did not bother to hide his own obvious gawking. She was so innocent, vulnerable and trying so hard to be strong. She was right; Narcissa was waiting for him. But what Amelia failed to see was he didn't care. Narcissa could wait all she wanted but if he didn't want to be with her, he wouldn't. Lucius was used to getting what he wanted, and presently, Amelia Bones was just that.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said finally.

"No."

"No?" he said with a grin.

"No." she said again. "Because if you start talking, I'll have to listen-"

"That's generally how these things work-" he joked.

"If I listen, I'll have to believe what you tell me, which will, undoubtedly refute everything else I just said. So, no. I have to keep talking because as long as I keep talking I won't want-"

Amelia was cut off by Lucius, who placed his hands on either side of her face. He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her. Amelia felt her body go rigid, complete fear taking over her for just a moment. She tried to force herself to resist but it was impossible. The fabric of his jacket brushed against her collarbone and his fingertips trailed along her jaw line unconsciously. The fluidity and movement of his lips against her own was enough to make her knees buckle but Lucius somehow must have knew his, and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her. While her mind adamantly protested to doing so, she felt her own lips part, allowing him to envelope her completely in the kiss, stealing whatever breath she may have had left.

Lucius kept Amelia pulled in close to him. In part because he was helping her keep her balance, and also because of what she represented to him; normalcy. She saw more in him than just a leader, a potential anarchist to the Wizarding World. He was a human being in her eyes.

Before Amelia let herself get too wrapped up in Lucius, she stopped herself. Even if she wanted him to be, he was not the man she was meant to be with. Breaking the kiss between them, Amelia caught her breath and conveyed a silent message that she knew he understood.

Lucius locked his gaze on Amelia, fully aware of the thoughts running through her mind. He watched her turn away and folded his arms across his chest once more, knowing full well that her own mind was a better convincing mechanism than his mouth; all he had to do was wait. Besides, he was a much better dancer than Kingsley Shacklebolt could ever hope to be.

–––––––––––––

Professor Dumbledore had finished addressing the Hall, reminding them that All Hallow's Eve was a celebration of ancient souls and that behind each mask lie a great mystery.

Amelia found Kingsley right where she left him, by the refreshment table. Edgar and Elliot had taken their respective dates onto the dance floor already. Emmeline and Amos has snuck off to one of the many courtyards and began engaging in what appeared to be a serious but also very pleasant conversation. Amelia made a mental note to inquire about the subject later on. At a table on the far left of the room, Xeno sat reading intently while Rita sat with her head perched atop her hands scanning the hall, no doubt looking for something to jot down.

"Ah." Kingsley said as he extended his hand to her. "There you are. Did you find it?"

"What?" Amelia asked, focusing all of her attention on Kingsley.

"Your mask." He repeated. "Did you find it?"

"Oh!" Amelia said quickly, nodding. "Yes. It was … er, right where I left it."

"Good, then. Shall we?" he asked, looking to the center of the room where various couples were waltzing across the dance floor.

Pulling on the mask that she had actually tucked inside the fold of her gown, Amelia donned a blue and gold sequined mask with feathers that drew back into her hair. Placing her hand in his own, Amelia let Kingsley guide her to the center of the floor where the other students' masks and gowns shimmered in the candlelight.

His hand on her waist and his other hand clutching her own tightly, Kingsley led Amelia in a simple and elegant dance during which he spun her once or twice, his gaze mostly focused on her. Amelia grinned at him, thinking about where her future lie.

Kingsley was smart and outgoing, bound to be successful and he truly cared about her, which led on to believe that an unfailing relationship between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw would ensue. Amelia would not deny that she found Kingsley attractive and pleasant to be around. Of course, nearly half the female population at Hogwarts also thought so. She should consider herself in an envious position. But she didn't – not at all.

Despite his good looks, charm and his clear devotion to her, the Gryffindor was not who she wanted to be with. Which led her to another question; who was it that she wanted to be with? Who was it that she longed to see each day? Whose eyes did she spend most of her time looking at? Whose touch, however brief, ignited a fire in her veins?

It may have taken her some time to admit it, but Kingsley Shacklebolt was not who she wanted to be with. He never was. He never would be, no matter how much convincing she tried.

"Kingsley." Amelia said suddenly, causing Kingsley to come to such an abrupt stop that they nearly fell over.

"Is something wrong, Lia?" he asked, scanning over her face for any sign of illness.

Amelia, who nearly winced when he called her Lia as she was so used to Lucius using her given name, nodded.

"Yes. I'm not feeling very well." She said with a sigh and reasoned that she really wasn't. Kingsley immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the table where Xeno and Rita sat.

"Are you okay?" Xeno asked upon the couples approaching as Rita looked up from her notebook, which cleverly folded into itself as Amelia sat down.

"Yes. I'm just feeling a little dizzy is all." She said, shaking her head, casting a look to the far corner of the room, where a band of Slytherins stood. Quickly, she turned her attention back to Kingsley.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you want something to drink? Pumpkin juice, maybe?" Kingsley offered, treating her like breakable china.

"Oh no, no that's okay." Amelia said shaking her head in a way so that if one was standing in a position, such as the far corner of the room, she would have appeared to be nodding to the Entrance Hall, which was now deserted.

"It's no trouble, honestly." Kingsley insisted.

"Amelia." Rita said suddenly, perching her head atop her hands. "Don't be so independent. Kingsley is only trying to help you." She said sweetly, keeping one eye trained on the Entrance Hall through which someone in a green mask disappeared.

"Really." Amelia said politely. "I think I'll go just and get some sleep." She finished as she began to rise from her chair.

"If you're sure." Kingsley nodded as Amelia turned to leave.

"Kingsley." Rita said disapprovingly. "Aren't you going to walk Amelia back to her room? If she's as dizzy as she seems," the blonde cooed, "then surely she'll need a hand."

"Of right, of course!" Kingsley said.

"It's really okay." Amelia insisted after giving Rita a curious look. "I wouldn't want to pull you away from the festivities."

"It doesn't matter if you're not here to enjoy with me." He said solemnly.

Amelia bowed her head for a moment and looked at Kingsley's amber eyes. She truly felt like a horrible person for leading him on the way she had been. It wasn't intentional, she knew, but just the same, Kingsley had been looking forward to this night for so long. Barely an hour into the evening and she was leaving.

"No." Amelia repeated gently. "This is a really big night. And it's your last Masquerade. Don't let me ruin it."

"But you're not-"

"Kingsley." Amelia said a little more sternly. "If you really care about me, you'll stay here and have a good time."

"Alright." Kingsley said after a moment. "I'll see you later." He added, kissing her softly.

"Of course." Amelia said, pulling back from the kiss.

Amelia turned once again and began walking toward the Entrance Hall, her heart beating so loudly she wondered why no one had bothered to stop her. She spotted Edgar, Elliot and Emmeline with their respective dates and felt a pang of jealously not because they had found someone they truly cared about. But because they would never be questioned for who they bestowed their affection upon.

Amelia on the other hand, if anyone knew about Lucius … she shook her head. She wouldn't think about that now. The important thing right now was to find him, to tell him what he already knew to be true.

Pushing through the crowd and forcing open the heavy door, Amelia stepped out into the light of the Hall and followed the same path she had taken earlier to a small alcove down a narrow corridor. Her mind was so hazy with thoughts that she almost stepped on a beetle in her path. The torches in the hall burned dimly, casting a heavy shadow.

"Amelia." Lucius breathed against her neck, standing behind her.

"Lucius." Amelia said, relaxing against his touch.

"You were looking for me." He stated.

"Yes." She nodded, a lump in her throat.

"Why?" he asked.

Amelia bit her lip shyly, her hands balling in and out of fists. She had been trying not to think about her honest answer to that question all evening, but she was tired of pretending that it didn't exist. He had all but confessed his affection for her only an hour ago, she owed him the came courtesy.

"Because," she began slowly, "You're right. You're absolutely right. I _don't_ want to be here with Kingsley."

Lucius cast his eyes down through his mask at her, waiting. He knew what the rest of her sentence would be, but he wanted, no, he _needed_ to hear her say it out loud.

"And." He prompted.

Amelia felt Lucius intertwine their fingers together, gripping her tightly.

"I want you."

No sooner had the words left her mouth did Lucius physically spin Amelia to face him and crash his lips onto hers. He had been in agony, wanting to kiss her, to hold her, to revel in the reality that she wanted him just as badly. Pulling her into the shadows, Lucius pressed Amelia against the opposing wall, his hands entangled in her hair.

Amelia felt a serge of heat run through her veins every time he kissed her. It was instantaneous, this sort of passion. While she, without hesitation, kissed him back, the rest of her seemed unresponsive and Lucius, again, almost had to hold her up.

She was beautiful to him. She was everything he wanted, needed. Amelia challenged him, made him question himself. Up until a month ago, he never though about a life without what his family wanted for him. Slowly, she was showing him that didn't have to be a Malfoy just because he was a Malfoy.

"Amelia." He said hoarsely, his breath coming in gasps. He rested her forehead against his own and he felt her tilt her head back against the wall, exhausted. "Dance with me."

Amelia, who was also short of breath, nodded with a small laugh.

"You're mad." She said, brushing her hair away from her eyes which were still shielded behind her mask.

"Maybe." He agreed. "But this is a Ball."

Amelia opened her eyes to look up at Lucius whose grey eyes met her own. His face was placid and a smile graced his lips.

"You're not kidding, are you?" she said after a moment.

"No, not at all." He said, rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

Amelia cast her eyes in the direction of the Ball where she could distantly hear students laughing and enjoying themselves while she stood in a dark corner pressed against the shadows.

It was peculiar, the situation. Amelia Bones knew with every logical and factual fiber of her being that she should have been in the middle of the Ball with Kingsley by her side, dancing with her friends and laughing alongside her family. All of the students whose laughter she heard were so much freer than she was, she thought. They were happy, and they didn't care who knew it. That freedom was what tugged on Amelia's heart when Lucius cupped her cheek.

"Amelia?" Lucius prompted, waiting for her response.

"What if someone sees us?" she said nervously, on the edge of saying yes.

"It's called a _Masquerade_ for a reason." He grinned.

His entire face changed when he grinned. It was like day and night. And it wasn't the manic smile she had seen him wear before; this was genuine. It was much softer and encompassed a greater satisfaction. It was that look that made her realize that he wanted that freedom just as much as she did.

Amelia placed her hand in Lucius' and the two of them raced around the corner like two children eager to play a new game. Feeling her heart rate increase, Amelia failed to consider how easily recognizable the two of them were in their own right; Lucius for his staggering height and white blonde hair, Amelia for her impeccable posture and infamous blue ribbon that she always wore in her hair, tonight being no exception. Surely someone would put it together.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'm an excellent dancer."

Before Amelia could offer an adequate rebuttal, Lucius had pulled open the wooden doors and, for all intents and purposes, the Masquerade Ball began.

Lucius' arms were wrapped around Amelia so tight she hardly had room to breathe. The room had become a blur and each step he took, she followed with fluidity she never knew existed. They had never danced together before but it seemed as if they had been doing it for years, it was so familiar. Each spin, each changing of direction he seemed to know systematically and what's more, she seemed to know it, too.

Amelia refused to let herself think about Kingsley, or Edgar or anyone else who might have an unfavorable opinion of this, which left her little to think about. The only thing that mattered, she assured herself, was Lucius Malfoy.

Through the slits of her mask, she could see his eyes, comforted and quiet. His demeanor completely contradicted the pace of her feet, which were moving quicker and quicker with each step. Amelia was sure that they'd circled the entire ballroom at least twice already.

Threading his fingers through hers, Lucius offered the same smile he bestowed upon her only minutes before. Spinning her out onto the floor, Amelia twirled, her gown fluttered around her ankles. As she came to a hard stop, Lucius was there by her side once again, whisking her into off into another direction, her feet barely touching the floor.

Wrapping her arm around his shoulder, Amelia laid her head against his chest, the familiar smell of rain and peppermint filling her lungs. She barely noticed the fact that they were moving and otherwise would have genuinely gotten dizzy.

Lucius' only focus was the small brunette attached to him, nothing more, and nothing less. It was completely uncharacteristic of him. Much like the Ravenclaw, he had his duties, obligations and expectations. The Lucius Malfoy everyone easily recognized as cold-hearted would have remained expressionless and stood silently beside Narcissa, who, Lucius had subtlety observed, was oblivious and absently inspecting her fingernails. Resting his head atop Amelia's, Lucius closed his eyes, falling slowly into the pattern of their footsteps.

–––––––––––––

On the other side of the room, Rita sat hunched over her notebook having returned from a bathroom break; Xeno felt the need to do something for her and saw fit to keep feeding her Pumpkin Juice, which she hardly minded. Presently, Xeno sat occupied with a book that he kept in his jacket pocket, just in case.

"You two are the perfect pair." Said a dismayed Kingsley with a grim smile on his face as he eyed the bottom of his empty class.

"Mm-hmm." Xeno replied half-heartedly.

"Later, Kingsley." Rita snapped. "I've got better things to do than listen to your lovesick blues."

"S good to know that you'll be there for me in my hour of need, Rita." He muttered, rolling his eyes as Edgar approached, appearing very winded. "At least someone's enjoying themselves." Kingsley observed as Edgar sat down beside the Gryffindor.

"Still drowning your sorrows over my sister?" Edgar teased, lightly shoving Kingsley.

"A bit." Kingsley admitted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Ah, don't worry about it, mate." Edgar explained, clapping him on the back. "Look, Lia's never been serious with anyone before. She was probably just a little nervous, that's all. She'll be back to her old self tomorrow." He nodded.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Kingsley." Rita countered. "Considering the other night – what went down, and who didn't."

"Hey, hey!" Edgar said harshly. "That's my sister, Rita." To which Rita merely raised her eyebrows. "She likes you, Kingsley. I'm sure of it." Edgar nodded. "And if you don't believe me, ask Emmeline. Lia tells her everything. If anyone in this world knows Amelia, it's Emmeline. Joined at the bloody hip, they are." Edgar grinned as he flagged down Emmeline.

"That's a bit personal don't you think?" Xeno said, finally looking up.

"Sorry, didn't catch that." Edgar said.

"Using your sister's best friend for information on how well she likes her boyfriend." Xeno clarified.

"You know," Edgar considered, "You're right, Lovegood." Turning back to Kingsley, he added, "King, if she didn't want to be here with you she-"

"Wouldn't be here? Got that, Ed." Kingsley said, nodding to the empty chair beside him.

"You know what I mean." Edgar said knowingly.

"Edgar Bones, what do you want?" Emmeline asked.

"I'll make it quick. Don't want to keep Famous Amos waiting, eh?" he said with a wink.

"Oh!" Emmeline said aghast. "Lia told you to call him that, didn't she? She knows how much I hate it!"

"And you were just telling me how famous I looked!" Amos said, coming up behind Emmeline, placing a kiss on her temple.

"Why, Emmeline," Edgar said in mock shock, "You seem to be turning red."

"Buggar off." Emmeline muttered.

"Anyway, what did you need my date for, Bones? You've got a lady of your own." Amos joked.

"Em, please tell Kingsley how much Lia adores him. The poor bloke is wasting away with Skeeter and Lovegood. The next thing you know, he'll be trading his broomstick in for a book on self-help. We've already got one Hufflepuff in this group, King. Merlin knows that we don't need another one." Edgar said in mock seriousness.

"Just wait until next Saturday, Bones." Amos replied casually speaking of the Quidditch match of Hufflepuff verses Ravenclaw.

"Kingsley's ego is far too large to be reassured." Rita said without looking up.

"Emmeline?" Edgar prompted, ignoring Rita.

Emmeline heisted for a moment before answering. Amelia herself had told Emmeline that she wasn't in love with Kingsley, but she never said anything about not enjoying the Gryffindor's company. Putting forth a bright smile, Emmeline rested a hand on Kingsley's shoulder.

"She really does care about you, Kingsley." Emmeline assured. "It's just a little hesitation, that's all."

Though Kingsley had a hard time understanding what there was to be nervous about, he grinned with gratitude.

"Thanks, Emmeline." He said.

"Alright, then. This is a Ball for Merlin's sake! Stop sulking, let's go!" Edgar grinned, forcing Kingsley to stand up.

"Ed, come on, I don't want to dance." Kingsley protested.

"Sure you do!" Edgar prompted. "Look at them all. Enjoying themselves, having a good time. And here you are, rotting like a vegetable. Merlin, even Malfoy is having a good time!" Edgar exasperated, indicating Lucius.

The group turned their attention to Lucius, ready to make witty remarks regarding the uncommon grin on his face when Lucius and his dance partner stepped into the light for a fleeting moment.

"That's … that's not Narcissa." Emmeline observed.

"Not at all." Amos agreed, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the girl but they were dancing too fast for him to figure it out.

"You know how that is." Edgar said dismissively.

"Yeah, they change lovers like they change clothes." Amos added. "I wonder who he's traded in Black for this time."

"The lot of you are bloody hypocrites, you are." Rita said harshly, slamming her notebook shut. "You all go on and on about the stereotypical views of your own person and then condescend to attack everyone else. Granted, Malfoy is a prime target but the point is," she said, standing for effect, "you have no objectivity whatsoever."

Amos, Emmeline, Edgar and Kingsley all exchanged looks of confusion while Rita stood with her arms folded across her chest. However correct she may have been, Edgar raised his eyebrows.

"And you do?" he asked.

"The difference, Edgar, between myself and you is that while I possess objectivity, I elect not to use it; you have none at all. My destined profession mandates _slighting_ fairness and equality – that's not what sells. In my book, John Locke and his bloody 'blank slate' 'tabula rasa' does not count, but that doesn't mean I deny it's existence." She finished, turning on her heel, smirking. She had much bigger things waiting for her outside the Great Hall, she thought to herself. After all, she had just thrown a hissy fit to preserve the contents of her biggest expose.

–––––––––––––

As the song echoed the beginning of a finale, Lucius and Amelia glided through the students one final time. They had only danced for a maximum of ten minutes but it felt like much longer, endless, almost. Amelia had a tendency to grip his hand even tighter as he spun her around one last time.

With ease, Lucius incorporated their exit into the dance, heading first to the door and then discreetly slipping through it. Amelia quickly stole a glance to where Kingsley was. He, Edgar, Emmeline and Amos all stood, their backs to them as they slipped into the Entrance Hall. _Thank, Merlin_, Amelia thought.

Before Amelia had a chance to tell Lucius, again, that he was mad, he placed his lips over hers, enveloping her in an embrace.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"Thank_ you_." She replied.

Lacing his fingers through her hers, Lucius and Amelia set out to walk down the corridor to the Ravenclaw Tower. He would kiss her goodnight and tell her that he would see her tomorrow and up until that point, he would, no doubt, be running a slideshow of images of her through his mind.

As they disappeared, a pop could be heard in the darkness, but Lucius and Amelia were too far away to have heard it. Rita Skeeter emerged from the shadows, carrying with her, her makeshift journal and a grin like a lioness who had just found her prey.

"Not feeling so dizzy anymore, are we, Amelia?" Rita whispered to the darkness.

* * *

Open Your Eyes - Snow Patrol

* * *

**Author's Note; **My semester is coming to a close and as it winds down, I'm spending more and more time with this incredible story. As the holidays get closer, I'll be uploading more and more chapters as a sort of Christmas present to those of you who are reading and reviewing and most importantly, enjoying this story. You have no idea how completely honored I am to know that there are readers who enjoy this pairing just as much as I do. Thank you all again so tremendously much. :)  
- Ashley


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Eleven.**

Even as Amelia stepped out of her ball gown and into her pajamas, she could still smell the scent of Lucius on her skin. While she knew how silly she must have seemed with her schoolgirl grin plastered on her face, she couldn't help it. Almost overnight, she had reconciled with herself the fact that she wanted to be in Lucius' presence, not Kingsley's and that in some way, he was better for her.

She would have very much liked to revel in her thoughts about the Slytherin but it was it was nearing midnight and the others would be back momentarily. Amelia had just enough time to draw under the heavy afghan on the couch in front of the fireplace before Edgar and the rest of the Ravenclaws minus Emmeline returned.

"I don't care if he's your boyfriend, Emmeline!" Edgar called out into the hall, "you'd better be wearing blue and bronze on Saturday!"

"Yellow is such a dodgy color." Nathalia said absently.

"Yeah." Edgar nodded turning his attention to Amelia, who feigned sleep. "Quiet, you lot!" he whispered harshly.

"Kingsley's out there waiting for Lia." Cordelia said softly, her arm locked with Elliot's.

"Right." Edgar sighed. "I'll wake her."

Amelia made a mental note to discretely shove Cordelia for her mention of Kingsley. He was the last person she wanted to see because in his own charming and ignorant way, he would make her feel guilty. Even though guilt was an emotion she should have been feeling, having technically cheated on her boyfriend, she refused to let herself feel it, at least not tonight. She would hate herself for it later, but she would have to lie – again.

"Lia." Edgar whispered, almost inaudibly.

Amelia hoped he would give up and tell Kingsley she would see him tomorrow at breakfast. Unfortunately, Edgar was just as adamant about his sister's relationship as Kingsley was.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat. "Lia … wake up … Lia? Liaaaaa." Edgar sang. When she still refused to move, he shook her lightly. However, ignorant to his own strength, his subtle shake was actually a violent convulsion that caused Amelia's eyes to fly open, and due to the unexpectedness of it, she fell off the couch and onto the floor.

"Oh!" Edgar exclaimed, grabbing her to help her sit up right. "Sorry, Lia."

"'S alright." She said in mock sleepiness, hoping he would take pity on her freshly woken state. "What's happened?"

"Nothing, nothing. No need to worry." He explained. "We've just returned from the Ball."

"Oh?" she forced a yawn, resting her head on a pillow. "How was it?"

"It was good." He said slowly, giving her a quizzical look at her near sleep state. "I was talking to Kingsley-"

"Mmhmm, that's good." She sighed lazily. "You two should really get together more often, you know? Nathalia and myself are coming between you, y'know?"

"Lia." Edgar said, giving her a slight shake back into consciousness. "He's outside in the corridor. He wants to talk to you."

"Wha-? Now? It's after midnight!" she said exasperated.

"Lia, you come back to the Tower each night well after one." He said with a grin.

"But-"

"Be reasonable. He sat down there all night wondering if you were okay. The only reason he didn't chase after you was because you asked him not to. Just talk to him for five minutes, please? You owe him that."

Edgar was, as always and annoyingly so, right. Amelia nodded and stood up, straightening her clothes, the weight of the situation setting in.

Kingsley was, just as Edgar said, waiting in the corridor, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He stared aimlessly at the floor, making a slow paced circle in the open space. He looked down trodden and miserable. Amelia sighed – all he had to do was look at her and she would have felt like a wretch.

"Hello, Kingsley." She said softly.

At the sound of his name, Kingsley looked up, his face lighting up softly, his eyes turning wide.

"Lia." He said, making his way to her in three long strides, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "How're are you feeling? I've been worr-"

"-ied all night, yeah, Edgar told me." She finished.

"Big mouth." He muttered.

"Tell me about it." She said in agreement.

Kingsley grinned lightly, consoled that her sense of humor was still the same. Amelia tucked her hair behind her ear and rung her hands together nervously, unsure of what to say.

"So." Kingsley began, breaking the silence. "Are you okay?

"Oh," Amelia said, wavering her hand. "Yeah, well, now. I just had a bad reaction to the … the Sheppard's pie at lunch, that's all." She said matter of factly. "I guess it caught up with me." She admitted sheepishly.

"But … we didn't have Sheppard's pie at lunch." Kingsley countered, confused.

"We didn't?" Amelia asked, a bit nervous. "Oh! That's right. We had that desert that _looked_ like Sheppard's pie." She said with a bit of a laugh. "You know, it just ... looked similar. And the taste was a bit the … same, you know? It must have had the same ingredients." She nodded.

"Uh-huh." Kingsley said, perplexed.

"Yeah, the … er …" Amelia stuttered, unable to recall what had been served only 12 hours ago.

"Strawberry cobbler?" Kingsley offered.

"Yes!" she grinned. "See, it's making me delirious even now. Merlin." She said, shaking her head.

"I really missed you tonight, Lia." Kingsley said with a grin.

Amelia was thankful that the corridors were poorly lit because if Kingsley had been able to clearly see her, he would have seen her face fall. She hoped that the conversation would not take a turn toward the fine aspects of emotions because she wasn't sure if she could tell him what he wanted to hear. Two months ago, Amelia was certain that Kingsley was it for her mainly because she never thought about the opposite sex enough to care. Lets be honest; Amelia spent more time going over the details of margins and grammar than what she looked for in a man. Of course Kingsley was handsome, and charming and many other things that had seventh year boys jealous and seventh year girls swoon. Out of all his many options, and Kingsley certainly had his pick, he chose Amelia, who at the time, didn't really care.

Over the course of those two months, Kingsley had fallen in love with her. He had put his heart and soul into making her happy and looked forward to a future with her. But something happened. Amelia began tutoring Lucius Malfoy and somewhere between yelling at him for inappropriate jokes and going out of her way to pass him in the corridors, she fell into something, too. Not quite love, because she didn't know Lucius extensively, but she knew enough to know that it was Lucius' face in her mind at night, not Kingsley's.

But tonight, she sighed, tonight was not the time to discuss or think about any of this, Amelia thought to herself. Eventually, she promised herself, she would set things right. For the time being at least, there was no pressure.

"I missed you, too, Kingsley." She said softly. "You know, maybe next weekend, we can go to the astronomy tower. There's supposed to be a meteor shower. I'd really love to watch it with you."

"Really?" Kingsley beamed, his face lighting up. This had been the first time Amelia had been the one to suggest they do anything together. In fact, now that Kingsley thought about it, Amelia had been very passive about anything they had ever done. Nodding, Kingsley thought that maybe Amelia was really starting to feel comfortable showing her love for him. "Sure, that would be great. But," he added, flashing a very charming but also shy grin, "you have to promise me something."

"Oh?" Amelia asked nervously. "What's that?"

"Miss Amelia Bones," he said matter of factly, "You owe me a proper dance."

Amelia grinned and nodded, promising the brown-eyed boy the dance he wanted. After kissing him goodnight, Amelia hurried off to bed before Edgar and Emmeline bombarded her with questions. Sometimes, she thought, they were worse then Rita.

As Amelia lay down, she closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Lucius' breath on her neck. Sighing, she though, 'Kingsley, I owe you more than a dance.'

–––––––––––––

The following morning at breakfast, Lucius settled down at his table beside a very aggravated Narcissa. He supposed she had every right to be angry, but that was not his primary concern. Narcissa was, of course, beautiful and very much a part of his life, but she did not possess the substance he was craving. With that in mind, he rested his index finger at his temple and focused his attention on the Ravenclaw Table. However, instead of the familiarity of the back of Amelia Bones' head, he was presented with a gapping hole. For whatever reason, Amelia had decided to forgo breakfast.

Slightly annoyed by her absence, Lucius focused his attention on his meal, which he did not enjoy.

The screeching of owls as they soared into the Great Hall, however, interrupted his thoughts. Various packages and letters found their way to their owners with ease. When his own midnight black barn owl flew overhead, a nervousness set in. He was not expecting any post, at least, not so soon. He prayed that perhaps it was not from who he thought it might be from.

When the letter landed in front of him, relief set in. Thankfully, it was from Amelia. He only knew it to be from her because of the terrible handwriting.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked, drumming her fingers loudly on the wooden table.

Lucius discreetly opened the letter and let his eyes scan the single word written on the parchment. 'Now' was all it said. Lucius let a smirk fall upon his face, taking the urgency to mean only one thing.

"Is it from Him?" Walden asked hastily.

"When's the date?" Evan pressed.

"I shouldn't have to wait much longer for mine." Alecto muttered to herself.

Unaware that he was being watched so closely, Lucius straightened up, tucking the letter inside his breast pocket. He would make an excuse to deal with the vultures later.

"I'll get back to you on that." He said, standing.

"At least tell us what it said!" Evan demanded in a harsh whisper.

"Let him go." Rookwood said, swirling his pumpkin juice in his goblet. "He'll tell us about it later when he gets back, I'm sure. You all had better learn that He doesn't wait for anyone." Raising his glass to their leader, Rookwood nodded, "To Malfoy."

In unison, the other Slytherins drank in his honor in that he had officially been accepted into the Dark Lord's Inner Circle. At least, that's what they thought. Now more then ever, Lucius was feeling the weight. Each member of the Slytherin house looked to him for answers. When Amelia called him the King Cobra, he tried to deny it. But looking at Narcissa, his betrothed, Rookwood, his second in command, and the other dozen green clad students he had at his beck and call, he realized that she was right. Even Regulus Black, a lowly first year was eager to shake his hand. For them, next to Him, Malfoy was a God.

Nodding curtly, Malfoy quickly made his way to the seventh floor, straightening his tie, even though he was sure it was going to be discarded in a few moments anyway. He bolted up the many stairs, reaching the Room of Requirement in record time. Once through the entrance, he peered around the frame of the door anticipating his favorite Ravenclaw. After fully scanning the room, Lucius spotted her behind her podium doing, of course, research of some sort.

"You have me run all the way up here before I can eat an adequate breakfast and don't even give me a proper greeting? What kind of girlfriend are you?"

Amelia looked up suddenly at the sound of his voice, startled. She had just closed her book when he used the term 'girlfriend' to describe her. While she did like the sound of it, she felt more like his mistress than anything else. Tucking her hair behind her ear and setting her hands atop the podium she said,

"I'm not so sure that's such a good idea." She said, biting her lip in reference to his new label for her.

"Amelia," Lucius said with a mild grin, "do I have to convince you all over again?"

Amelia grinned softly as he placed a kiss atop her head and looked up at him.

"I didn't mean that. I mean … maybe we shouldn't be too sure of ourselves. We don't know for sure if anyone saw us last night and … and Kingsley and I are still together."

"Regrettably." He muttered, which caused a grin to tug at Amelia's lips. "I know, I know. But not for long, I hope. It was difficult enough to watch you with him. I'm not sure if I can stomach the image of the two of you with the knowledge of your feelings for me much longer."

Amelia raised her gaze to Lucius'. She had been avoiding looking at him closely for the longest time only because she was uncertain of any emotion she might feel. However, now that her affection was certain, zeroing in on his grey eyes was becoming something of a habit, her favorite pastime. As much as she would have liked to jump in with both feet first with Lucius, she did not fancy herself a slag. Enough damage was being done to Kingsley already, Amelia did not want to inflict any more.

"No," she shook her head, "No, not for long."

The truth was, Amelia and Lucius didn't even know each other at all. They thought the other handsome, but other than the physical attraction, there was no substance. Amelia felt obligated to at least learn a bit more about him before dedicating herself wholly to him.

"I'll see you later than, yeah?" he asked, assuming her response to be 'yes.'

"Actually, no." she sighed.

"I beg your pardon? I understand playing hard to get but this is a bit too much." He said with a smirk.

"Believe me, I'm not playing hard to get. That's sort of the furthest thing from my mind." She said with Lucius raised his eyebrows, taken aback by her uncharacteristic bluntness in terms of flirtation. "I think it might be a good idea to spend the evening in our respective common rooms. I just don't want to throw up any red flags."

Lucius nodded, giving Amelia a once over. Taking a step forward, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes letting out a sigh.

"You love making things difficult don't you?"

"It's not intentional, I promise." She said, managing a small smile. "Besides, I'm sure you can find something to do to keep yourself occupied."

"I suppose," Lucius said after a moment, "that it might be a good idea to head down to the pitch for practice. The log book should be empty – it's the start of the month."

"There you go." Amelia grinned. "We'll keep it low key, just for tonight."

"It should not be this hard to walk away from you, and even still I can't seem to make myself go." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"It's only one night." She reminded him.

"Haven't you ever heard that one night can change everything?" he teased. "I'll see you tomorrow then, eh?" He brushed his lips across her forehead.

Amelia turned and walked away, closing the door behind her. Casting her eyes to the windows, she peered outside herself. The weather was, of course, getting colder, but Amelia Bones was on fire.

–––––––––––––

Throughout the entire day of classes, Amelia felt a bit paranoid, as if someone's eyes were focused on her all day. At lunch, Kingsley wrapped his arm around her and she flinched.

"That 'Sheppard's Pie' still has you wonky." He grinned.

Even when making her way to Transfiguration, she had an eerie feeling and the incessant need to turn around could not escape her.

Despite the strangeness, there was a bit of a spring in her step. Finally, after two months of bickering, staring, loathing and lusting, Amelia was able to look at Lucius without guilt or shame. There was, however, the matter of Kingsley, to whom she promised to spend Saturday night with in the Astronomy Tower.

"I can't wait." Kingsley beamed at dinner about the date.

"Hmm?" Amelia asked, looking up from the dinner she was not eating.

"The meteor shower." He repeated.

"Oh, right." She nodded. "Me either."

"What's going on?" Edgar asked, looking across the table at Kingsley, who had placed a kiss on Amelia's head, the same spot that Lucius' lips had been only five hours before.

"There's a meteor shower this weekend. We're going to watch it in the Astronomy Tower." Kingsley explained.

"Is this to make up for the ball last night?" Elliot asked.

"Yes." Amelia nodded absently.

"You better give him more than a meteor shower." Amos said, biting into his drumstick.

"Like what?" Amelia asked, raising her eyebrows.

"A pep show might work. Or if you want to keep with the shower theme-"

"Hey, hey." Edgar chastised, turning back to Kingsley and his sister. "It sounds lovely."

"Er, thanks." Amelia said uneasily.

Amelia had not thought about propositioning Kingsley in such a way, but now that Amos had implied it, Kingsley would most likely be expecting it. As if matters weren't already out of control, Rita's eyes were locked on Amelia throughout the remainder of the meal.

As it had been, Amelia normally excused herself from dinner just as it had ceased and exited to the Room of Requirement. Today, however, she politely waited for her housemates to finish their meals while looking absently over her parchment, ordering herself not to look at Lucius who was just behind her shoulder.

"You look pained, Lia." Rita said, startling Amelia, who looked up in Lucius' direction almost instantly before catching herself and turning her gaze back to Rita.

"Sorry?" Amelia asked, clearing her throat, shuffling her papers and tucking them into her text.

"Just offering concern for my fellow housemate." Rita said with an innocent shrug. "I knew how sick you were last night – I do hope it's not coming back. Wouldn't want you to turn a horrid shade of green." Rita said lightly, getting to her feet.

"No, of course not. I'm feeling fine." Amelia said with a nod.

"Right then." Rita said before offering a bright grin and heading out of the Great Hall.

Rita's tone was gentle enough and her manner was polite, but her careful phrasing of the word 'green' made Amelia uneasy. Amelia watched as Rita's blonde curls bounced against the back of her head as she left the hall. Somehow, she felt better with her gone.

"You'd better head off." Elliot joked beside Edgar to Amelia.

"Sorry?" Amelia asked, tearing her eyes away from a group of Slytherins who were departing from their table.

"You've never stayed at dinner this long. We'd figure you'd want to get a good seat in the library." Edgar grinned. "They fill up fast you know."

"You should really consider giving up your prospective career as an Auror, Ed. Comedy is looking better and better for you every day." Amelia said with a roll of her eyes.

"Say, that's a brilliant idea, Lia! We could become a family act. I'll be a ventriloquist and you can be the dummy. That way, no one will have to hear you talk." Edgar nodded.

"Wow, Edgar." Emmeline said with genuine impression. "That was almost as stupid as the last thing you said."

"Better not provoke your boyfriend's opponent, Vancey." Edgar warned.

"Oh, no." Amos said, draping an arm across Emmeline's shoulder. "Go ahead. It'll be much more entertaining to watch him sulk afterward. I'll be sure to give you two ladies Hufflepuff colors to wear on Saturday." Amos said with a wink at Amelia and Emmeline.

"Don't you dare, Diggory." Edgar stated.

"Well would to you look at that! Funny _and_ good at alliteration!" Amelia said in mock amazement. "Mum will be so proud when I tell her!"

"Anyway, what are you still doing here?" Edgar asked, annoyed.

"I was planning on staying in the common room tonight." Amelia shrugged.

"Thank Merlin." Edgar grinned.

"I had no idea you'd be so eager for my company." Amelia said with a raised eyebrow.

"Despite Kingsley's babbling, you're really not all _that_ fun to be around, Lia." Edgar joked. "It so happens that the night you choose to grace us with your presence is the same night I have Quidditch Practice."

"No you don't." Amos said pointedly. "I booked the pitch for us today."

"The both of you have your days mixed up! I always put Gryffindors on for Monday night." Kingsley said.

"Today is the first?" Edgar asked.

"All Souls Day." Xeno observed from behind his text.

"Yeah. Which means _I _have the pitch." Amos argued.

"Lucius has the pitch tonight." Amelia said absently, remembering their conversation from earlier.

"_Lucius?_" Edgar said with distaste. "Since when are you on a first name basis with _him_?"

"I'm not." Amelia said, doing her best to hide her quickly blushing cheeks.

"How would you know, anyway?" Emmeline asked curiously.

"I wouldn't. I just assumed." Amelia said, trying to shrug off her slip up. "You know how these things are – anything that can go wrong will go wrong."

"You don't even need to practice King! You don't have any games scheduled for two weeks!" Amos said loudly, taking all attention off Amelia, something she was thankful for.

"Please," Kingsley said with a charming smile, "you flatter me. I know I don't _need_ to-"

"I'm going to check the log." Edgar said finally.

"Not without us. How do we know you won't erase our names?" Amos asked.

"Wouldn't you write it in ink?" Xeno asked absently.

The three boys all exchanged looks of regret. Evidently, none of them had remembered to make their mark permanent.

"You didn't write it in ink?" Amelia asked with a laugh. "You don't have to worry about it then – Lu – I mean, in that case, I'm _positive_ Malfoy has the pitch tonight."

"Shut it, Lia. I don't exactly carry an inkwell around with me all the time." Edgar said defensively.

"You could always use a spell." Xeno said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Shut it, Xeno." Edgar fumed.

"Just when I thought you couldn't top yourself, Ed, you go and surprise me." Amelia grinned.

"Well, look," Amos paused, "It's only 5:30. The pitch isn't even open until 6. So, even if Malfoy did book it, then there isn't any way he'd be allowed down there until then."

"So?" Kingsley asked, exchanging a confused look with Edgar.

"So," Amos continued, "I say that out of the three of us, whoever gets there first gets to practice."

"And if Malfoy has the pitch?" Emmeline prompted.

"We cross the bridge when we get to it." Amos shrugged.

"Okay, fine. But there's one problem. Edgar here is far too old for foot races." Kingsley teased.

Clapping both Amos and Kingsley on the shoulder with a clever grin, Edgar said,

"Oh ye of little faith."

And he took off down the Great Hall at an alarming speed as Amos and Kingsley scrambled out of their seats to catch up with him.

"You would think Ed would be smart enough to have Professor Flitwick to override any dispute so that he could practice for the game." Emmeline observed.

"Actually," Elliot said with a grin, "I already took care of it." Out of his robes, he pulled a scroll of parchment with the Hogwarts seal on it.

"If you had this the whole time, then why didn't you say anything?" Emmeline grinned.

"Oh, come on. Who wouldn't jump at the chance to watch those three fight over Quidditch?" Elliot reasoned.

"He has a point." Emmeline nodded.

"I always knew you were my favorite brother." Amelia laughed.

"Anyway, I'd better get this to 'em before they start causing a scene."

Nodding shortly, Elliot bid the two girls goodnight and made to catch up with his brother. Though it was not spoken, what Amelia had said was half true. She did favor one of her brothers over the other, but it was not Elliot. For whatever reason, she had always been closer with Edgar. She leaned on him for everything. When she scrapped her knees as a little girl, when her first pet died, he stepped in every time, filling the role of the older brother as he should have.

The three Bones children would deny it to no end if asked, but they knew; Amelia loved Edgar more than Elliot. She was almost embarrassed to even think about it but there it was.

Once back in the common room, Amelia and Emmeline sat side by side at one of the many desks in an effort to start their homework. They did not succeed, however, as many of the third and fourth year girls, for an unknown reason, were pestering Rita with questions.

"Begging, my dears," Rita said coolly, "Will never get you any where."

"Come on, Rita!" one girl exclaimed.

"What did you find out?" another asked.

"The usual; Why Caradoc Dearborn turned Hestia Jones down, who Bertha Jorkins was crying over, why Rufus Scrimgeour didn't go to the Ball at all, who wore the same _unfortunate_ outfit, who the brunette dancing with Lucius Malfoy was-"

At the mention of Lucius' name, most of the girls shrieked and giggled, but it was not their childish manner that cut Rita off. Amelia had knocked over her inkwell at the mention.

"Lia?" Emmeline asked as Amelia knelt down to pick up the shattered glass. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Amelia said, managing a smile, "I'm just such a klutz sometimes."

"Amelia." Rita said, using the brunette's full name, something she hardly ever did. "Is something wrong?" Rita knelt down beside Amelia, her gaze scrutinizing.

Amelia shook her head with a brave face. Keeping Lucius' words in mind, she reminded herself that her secret had not been let out. Whatever hunch Rita had was wrong. She had no proof.

"You're sure? It's not something I said, was it? Something about Caradoc, maybe? Bertha and her obsession with your _boyfriend_, Kingsley? Perhaps it was … something else." She said innocently.

Amelia could sense the game Rita was trying to play and vowed that she would hold her town. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Amelia pulled out her wand and waved it over the inkwell, clearing up the mess instantly.

"Caradoc is a friend, Rita, that's all. I just don't like his character maligned. I couldn't care less about Bertha." Amelia said firmly.

Getting to her feet, Rita straightened her blouse, smirking knowingly. It would take much more than a clever wordless spell to silence the blonde. Amelia followed suit and stood, sitting back down at her desk, turning her attention back to her work.

"I find that very hard to believe." Emmeline muttered.

"What?" Amelia asked absently.

"Malfoy with someone other then Narcissa. She must be a real slag." Emmeline rolled her eyes and Amelia flinched.

"I suppose you're right, Emmeline." Rita said, having heard their exchange. "It is, after all," she nodded, "uncharacteristic of him. His single days are long past. You know, normally," she said, folding her arms across her chest, "I would doubt the rumor myself. But I happen to have proof."

Amelia, who had been trying so hard to focus her attention to her books, felt her eyes snap upward at Rita. Surely they hadn't been that careless, Amelia thought quickly. They had on masks at the Ball, they were dancing too fast for anyone to even notice them. They left too early for anyone to even spot them. Amelia recounted each moment in her head, looking for something, _anything_ that would give Rita what she needed. Her dress couldn't have given it away – there were half a dozen people wearing blue. Amelia's thoughts stopped. Blue. The blue ribbon. Amelia felt her hand reach back and touch the soft fabric. The blue ribbon she always wore. She was wearing it the night of the dance. Rita must have seen it, she thought, panicked.

"That's absurd, even for you, Rita." Emmeline said in disbelief. "No self respecting female would stoop to the level of investing her time with Malfoy. I mean, he's a womanizer. He doesn't have any respect for anyone, least of all women. And if anyone were to even consider being with him, how could they do that to Narcissa? Granted," Emmeline explained, "I don't fancy the girl, but it's not right."

Amelia felt her heart sinking with all of Emmeline's words. She was absolutely right. Amelia had been so preoccupied with what she was doing to Kingsley she hardly had any time to think about what she was doing to Narcissa. She was a right slag, Amelia thought, ashamed.

"That's a _very_, very valid argument, Emmeline. Perhaps you could explain this insight in greater detail to Malfoy's dance partner." Rita challenged.

"What do you mean?" Emmeline asked.

"She's sitting in this room."

All at once, everyone looked up, scanning the other the room for anyone looks of guilt or embarrassment. Amelia looked down helplessly at her parchment. _Do something_ she commanded herself. _Get the blame off you_.

"Lia!" Emmeline said in shock. "Can you believe it! Rita has to be making this up, right? Who in their right mind-"

"Yes, Amelia." Rita said, her hands at her sides, full emphasis on Amelia's name. "Who in their right mind would spend time with Malfoy? Who would even bother to look his way? Who would dare to fall in love with such a _snake_?" Rita spat venomously.

Amelia felt her temperature rise at Rita's last comment. The need to defend Lucius was at the back of her throat but she quickly realized that there was an even greater urgency to protect the both of them.

Standing, Amelia set down her quill and tucked her papers back into her books. Looking Rita square in the eye, she took a deep breath.

"Rita, I understand that you have an obsession with Malfoy and that this fabricated story is just some ploy to project feelings of jealousy for Narcissa or whoever it is you _think_ you saw with him. I also understand that you crave attention from your peers because you never get it at home from your lovely, but absent parents." She said coolly, at which Rita hardened. "I don't know why you find it necessary to slander everyone's name all the time but I have a sneaky feeling that that might be the reason that you don't have one friend to your name. Give it a rest, Rita. We're all just a little bit tired of it."

Stepping from behind the desk, Amelia made her way into the corridor, cupping her hand over her mouth. She sighed heavily, in disbelief at what she had just said and that she had the nerve to even say it. How had Rita, of all possible people, gotten wind of Amelia and Lucius together? Suddenly the outlets seemed infinite. All of the staring across the Great Hall, her absent evenings, the subtle mentions of his name. Amelia supposed that Rita had her suspicions all along. The Ball merely confirmed all of it.

Rubbing her forehead in distress, she heard the Ravenclaw Tower entrance close from behind her. She knew that it was Rita; she could feel the blonde's eyes on her.

"Impressive performance, Amelia. I'd give you an Oscar nod for it if I could." Rita mused.

"How long have you known?" Amelia asked quietly. There was no point in trying to hide it now. Surely, Rita had told everyone as soon as Amelia had left the room, which was why Emmeline hadn't come to find her. They were all undoubtedly gluing the pieces together – she couldn't break it if she tried.

"Long enough. How far did you think you could take this, forgive the term, masquerade?"

"Longer than this, obviously." Turning about, Amelia stared at Rita through the torch light. "How did you figure it out?"

The truth was, of course, more elaborate than Rita would ever tell, as it always was. Rita figured out what it would take a long time ago to unhinge the greatest secrets, but never had the nerve to actually go through with it. It was at the Marchbank's Summer Solstice that Rita had overheard Alecto Carrow and Bellatrix Black whispering about their Dark Marks and when exactly they would be getting them. Any story about Voldemort sparked Rita's interest and if the sources of that story were within her grasp, she had to seize the moment, which was rapidly approaching. The war was upon them, and Rita was only two years from graduation. She wanted her name on the front page. She wanted the big story. And there was really only one way to make sure she had it.

Minerva McGonagall, of all people, gave Rita the idea in second year. She was heading down to McGonagall's office to hand in a paper on the difference between Transfiguring quills and inkwells. When she stepped into her professor's office, McGonagall was absent; only a tabby cat sat atop the disoriented desk.

"Bloody brilliant." Rita scoffed in her twelve-year-old voice. "She asks me to come all the way down here and decides to take a walk. I've got better things to do with my time." Rita tossed her paper carelessly on the desk. No sooner had the paper landed, the cat sprang to the floor, transforming into Professor McGonagall as it did so.

"You know, Miss Skeeter," she said in a knowing tone, "It might be in your best interests to keep less than favorable thoughts to yourself. You never know who might be listening."

An Animagus. _That_ was the answer. If she were small enough and inconspicuous enough, she could get away with anything. Eavesdropping on future Death Eaters would be child's play. Rita had contemplated the idea for years but wasn't sure if she could pull it off. She couldn't register – that would defeat the entire purpose. But an unregistered Animagus who was discovered would end up in Azkaban, and Rita couldn't afford that. Only when she overheard Bellatrix did Rita finally make up her mind.

The process was simple enough. It required a good deal of magic and practice but she was a Ravenclaw – she could handle it. Once school started, Rita had to get used to her new identity. When to transform, how to get around without being stepped on, it was all part of the process. But she had managed well enough.

She was walking, or crawling, rather, down the corridor to see where Amycus Carrow had gone off to in such a hurry when she heard the unmistakable voice of Amelia; her octaves were always all over the place when she spoke. Rita was about to brush it off as nothing more than a conversation between friends when she heard another voice. Another unmistakable voice.

_ "Alright . . . but it'll have to wait until I can put these books down in-"_

_ "We're not going to the library." Lucius Malfoy declared._

_ "Pardon me?" Amelia said, confused. "I thought we agreed-"_

_ "Change of plans."_

_ "Why are you waiting until _now_ to tell me this?" she said indignant under the weight of the texts._

_ "Your weekend was eventful. I hardly had a chance to get a word in what with your public displays of clumsiness, and late night shags with Shacklebolt." He said with a grim smile._

_ "Bravo, Malfoy. That's the most I think I've ever heard you say at one time. You didn't use _all_ your brain cells stringing that one together, did you?"_

Rita's beady beetle eyes widened. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. Of course Lucius and Amelia were still slinging insults back and forth at each other, but nonetheless, they were engaged in conversation; a conversation that suggested that they had plans for later.

Rita, of course, followed them to the seventh floor that evening, and each evening after that. She as there for every crucial moment, under the impression that even if it was only studying that took place, at least she could observe Malfoy. Over the course of time, Rita eventually became just as involved in their relationship as they were. Though, she still tested her theories in public; watching the way they looked at the other, waiting for them to pass. She may have had her own evidence but she couldn't blackmail anyone without giving herself away. She was waiting for the right moment when the two of them would jeopardize themselves. The Ball, thankfully, was just that moment. It didn't matter that no one else had seen them because all Rita needed was the possibility.

"It really wasn't that hard." Rita shrugged. "Your infatuation with him is written all over your porcelain little face. And curiously enough," Rita added more for Amelia's consolation than anything else, "it's written on his, too."

"Why is that curious?" Amelia asked, her breathing light as she tried o keep herself steady.

"You've known him long enough. Does he not strike you as guarded?" Rita posed as Amelia nodded slowly. Stepping closer to Amelia, Rita made a semi-circle around the brunette before she continued. "I've seen him with Narcissa and he looks at her, but he never really sees her."

"I don't see your point, Rita." Amelia admitted, folding her arms across her chest as Rita out a laugh. "What's so funny?"

"I never thought I would witness this." Rita mused. "Everything is also so structured for you, Lia. The facts always add up, everything is in black and white for you. You never really liked Kingsley; we all knew that. But you thought that over time, you could. You thought that this was how things were supposed to be. Edgar had Nathalia, Elliot had Cordelia, Emmeline had Amos and then you had Kingsley. But they had passion; they _still_ have passion, as sickening as it is. They actually want to be with each other. You've never been passionate about anything."

"Yes I have, Rita, I-"

"Schoolwork doesn't count as something you can be passionate about, Lia. We both know that." Rita said knowingly. She cocked her head to the side and tapped her chin with her index finger. "And then came Lucius. You may know a lot of things, Amelia, but you love is not one of them-"

"I'm not in love with Lucius, Rita." Amelia said firmly, and that was true. She felt something for Lucius, she may have even wanted to feel love for him, but she was certain that she didn't feel it, at least not wholly, at least not yet.

"I wasn't talking about Lucius, you fool girl. I was talking about the man who is so eager to give you his heart. The man who is more than willing to understand. The man whose gifts hangs around your neck like a noose." Rita said, her words hitting Amelia like venom.

Amelia stopped short. She had been so wrapped up in Lucius, so worried about keeping her secret that she had forgotten all about Kingsley. She supposed that made her a horrible person.

"You're not going to tell him … are you?" Amelia asked hesitantly.

Rita let out a soft laugh and folded her arms across her chest.

"Amelia, I'm not _that_ heartless. I could be, but this is none of my business. I wouldn't _dare_ step in where I'm not permitted." Rita said with a wave of her hand and relief washed over Amelia. "I'm not going to tell him." Rita said carefully. "You are."

Amelia looked at Rita with a confused expression. She didn't quite understand Rita's implication. Shaking her head, she said,

"I beg your pardon?"

"While I would love to be the bearer of bad news in this situation, I must digress." She sighed. "As much fun as it would be to present Kingsley with this lovely little gift, that his perfect girlfriend isn't as … faithful as he would have hoped, I think it's in everyone's best interests if you break the news." Rita said sweetly.

Amelia felt her heart pound loudly in her ears, her throat suddenly dry. Rita must have been trying to egg Amelia on, that's all. Surely she was joking – not even Rita would humiliate someone so terribly, especially someone she'd known for years.

"What?" Amelia breathed.

"You heard me. Because even if you don't tell him, I won't hesitate to stand in as the informer." Rita said firmly.

"But you can't, Rita. I mean …" Amelia struggled for words to describe her distress. "Please."

"I'm a woman of my word, Amelia. Surely you know that." Rita said assumingly. "Don't worry, though. I'll give you some time to think about just how badly you want to break Kingsley's heart … but don't take too long. I'm not very patient, but you already know that."

Rita grinned toothily, tapping Amelia lightly on the shoulder before turning back toward the Ravenclaw Tower entrance. Amelia felt lightheaded and leaned against the castle wall to catch her breath. How could Rita be so heartless? she wondered. Almost instantly, though, Amelia rethought the same statement in application to herself. She had been just as Rita said, a fool. She had engaged herself in a relationship with Kingsley for no other reason besides the fact that she could. She had, in a modern term, led him on. Closing her eyes, Amelia realized that she had put herself in a position where she had become the villian. She was wrong and she knew it.

At approximately eight thirty on a Monday night, not Lucius Malfoy nor Rita Skeeter was the most cruelest being in all of Hogwarts. Amelia Bones was, and she desperately wondered how she had let that happen.

* * *

Secret - The Pierces


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Twelve.**

The following day, Rita did not take her eyes off Amelia and the brunette knew it, feeling them burn into the back of her skull. At breakfast, Amelia sat stiffly beside Kingsley, who was more affectionate than usual, although his behavior could be attributed to the fact that Amelia never noticed it before.

As luck would have it, Rita was not in any of Amelia's classes but that did not settle her nerves any. Her thoughts were racked with how to get herself out of her situation without hurting anyone. However, all of her scenarios ended in disaster. By the time her final class ended, Amelia was ready to explode with frustration. She almost didn't care and it was that very thought that prompted her to go to the Room of Requirement instead of dinner. She had a sneaking feeling that Rita, in her absence, would seize the moment and announce Amelia's infidelity to the entire hall, but she pushed that thought back into the depths of her mind. Remembering Rita's words, Amelia was somewhat comforted by the fact that any revelations would have to come from herself.

Having run to the top of the seventh floor, Amelia's anger at herself was raging. When she entered the room, she slammed the door shut behind her with such ferocity that the photos on the wall cried out in agitation, as did Lucius who had been sitting on the couch. While she knew that she should be anywhere but with him, she wanted his presence more than any other.

"'F you slam it any harder, the entire gallery will be after you." He said from behind her as she locked the door and she could picture the smirk on his face.

Turning around to face him, Amelia stepped into the light so that Lucius could get a better view of her current state. At the first glance of Amelia's stance, Lucius immediately stood and moved to her side so that he was standing directly in front of her.

"What's happened?" he asked, his tone more demanding than inquisitive.

"She knows." Amelia said after a moment, taking a deep breath. She held her eyes steady onto his, her emotions reading through.

"_Who_ knows?" he asked specifically.

"Rita." Amelia said lightly, fighting back her fear with a forced laugh. "Rita knows."

"That's impossible." He said dismissively. "She has no-"

"She saw us, Lucius. At the Ball." Amelia half-cried, hanging her head. "Last night in the common room she kept making references to you dancing with 'a mysterious brunette.'"

"That doesn't mean it was you, Amelia." He reasoned.

"Put it together, Lucius!" Amelia shouted. "Who else would it have been? Alecto? She knows better then that! She figured it all out – my absences from the common room, the distance from Kingsley-"

"Did you tell her she was right?" Lucius demanded. Amelia stood silent, searching for the words. "Did you!" he yelled in frustration.

"She _is_ right, Lucius! Of course I told her she was!" Amelia retorted.

"She baited you, Amelia! She did what all bloody journalists do – they pick out the facts and manipulate _you_ into filling in the blanks." he said, pacing in frustration. "She wouldn't have been any the wiser if you hadn't confessed-"

"I'm tired of lying!" Amelia shouted, running her hand over her face. "I am sick to my stomach of having to lie to my brothers and my best friend. I can't even look Kingsley in the eye anymore!" By this time, Amelia's body was shaking in-between her sobs. "I'm just so tired of pretending that you don't exist, Lucius." She said, raising her eyes to his.

Lucius ran his hand along the back of his neck before quickly enveloping Amelia in an embrace. He bound her to his chest, his head resting atop her. This was, obviously, what he had feared. Not so much his secret getting out but the way in which is was escaping. He assumed that Rita had scurried off to the Slytherin common room to tell his housemates. And that was when Lucius realized how selfish he had been.

Amelia Susan Bones was a Pureblood, and while she may not have been bred to be his eternal partner, even his parents could not dispute the fact that she fit the Pureblood mold. He, in essence, could come out of this unscathed. Amelia, on the other hand, could not.

Her ties with Kingsley were now so deep that she could not pas it off as a close friendship. Edgar would first be concerned for his sister's safety and irate for the willingness to spend time with Lucius. The fury that would befall her on behalf of her friends and family was much greater than any chastising Lucius would receive.

Slowly, Lucius realized, he was becoming all she had.

"She's told them?" Lucius asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Oh," Amelia pulled back, blinking her eyes of moisture, sniffling. "I haven't told you the best part. She refuses to tell anyone."

"That's good then." He said, raising an eyebrow at her shaking of her head.

"No." Amelia closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It's my secret, it's my responsibility to tell Kingsley. She said she'd keep her mouth shut as long as I was the one that told him. But if I wait too long, she'll go ahead and do it."

Lucius brushed Amelia's hair away from her eyes which were red and puffy.

"So what are we going to do?" he said, more to himself than to her.

"I have to tell him." She shrugged.

"When?"

"Once I get up the nerve I suppose." Amelia said uneasily. She dreaded that moment. It made her feel physically ill to think about what Kingsley might say or do.

"I'm guessing you don't want my help with this one." He said with a small smirk.

"That's alright," she said, feeling herself grin, "but I do appreciate it."

Nodding to the couch behind him, Lucius made to sit down. Amelia followed, leaning her back against his chest, his hands seemingly finding hers with ease.

"What do we do now?" Amelia mused.

"We're going to sit here, Amelia. We're just going to sit here."

Amelia took note of the softness of his hands and how delicately he touched her. It was such a difference compared to their first few encounters. At the time, it seemed like Lucius wanted nothing more than to shake her. Now, she was fine china that could crack with the slightest inflection of his voice.

"You're worried." He stated, inhaling the beautiful scent of ivory and spring.

"Yes." Amelia said, closing her eyes.

"About Kingsley." He said as Amelia nodded. "Emmeline?" Amelia nodded again. Lucius debated on his next question because he already knew her answer, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. "Edgar?"

"Most of all." Amelia opened her eyes and turned so that she could see his face. "Why are you so concerned?" she asked softly, truly curious. Surely, she thought, his own battles were more important.

Lucius grinned lightly, rubbing her hand between his own.

"Why are you laughing?" Amelia asked, feeling her own lips break into a grin.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "It's nothing." Lucius looked down at Amelia's wandering eyes. "I was just thinking about the first time I saw you."

"When you caught me eavesdropping on your argument with Professor Flitwick." Amelia stated, grinning at the context of their first argument.

"No, actually."

"Passing in the corridors doesn't really count."

"I know."

"But … until September you never really saw me." Amelia said, confused.

"I did, you just didn't know it." He admitted with a grin.

"Lucius, what are you talking about?" Amelia asked, now fully sitting up.

"It was a few years ago, when you were a first year. Everyone was in the Great Hall for dinner or lunch … some meal. And I remember Carrow sitting down at the table next to me. He went on and on about how he and his sister had just tormented two young girls. They looked for some kind of praise from me, I suppose. But I didn't see the sense in it." Lucius said, shaking his head at the memory. "I remember looking at the entrance to the Great Hall. You and Emmeline ran down the hall, frantically. She sat down and you in a fit of rage, I suppose, told Edgar everything. You pointed to Amycus who laughed and said 'I told you!' Edgar looked over and said something reassuring to you. Something … comforting. You looked at him …" Lucius mused. "You looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. And I remember wishing that someone would look at me like that, the way you look at Edgar."

Lucius closed his eyes at the memory, remembering the silent affection between brother and sister. Amelia watched his facial expression and she tried to place the emotion. His cheekbones were relaxed and his eyelids fluttered slightly. He wanted to be loved.

"That's just it, Lucius." Amelia said, touching his jaw line, running her fingers along the bone. "He's not the only person I look at like that anymore."

Lucius opened his eyes slowly, the reality of what Amelia had said sinking in. He looked at her eyes, her navy colored orbs. She would not say aloud that she loved him, not yet, and he could certainly understand that. But he also saw that her heart was open. He would not ask her why she felt that way, or tell her out right that he reciprocated those feelings and emotions twofold. Instead, Lucius rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone and placed his lips to hers.

–––––––––––––

"You never talk about your family." Amelia said suddenly while they were working the following night. Amelia had decided that she would not let Rita bother her. She would go back to her regular routine. The inevitable confrontation with Kingsley was looming. While she should have been preoccupied with how to reveal everything to Kingsley, she was more concerned with Lucius and how painfully aware she was becoming of how very little they knew about each other. Her conversation with Kingsley could wait for at least another 24 hours.

"What?" Lucius asked, surprised. He hardly expected her to ask about his parents and wasn't even sure if he had heard her correctly.

"Your family." She repeated, feeling her cheeks flush with color, a little embarrassed by his reaction. "You never talk about them."

Lucius felt his hands ball into fists instinctively. The subject of his family was not one of his favorites mainly because he wasn't exactly sure what kind of relationship he had with them.

"You never talk about yours." He said, his gaze unwavering from his paper. He tried to make his tone seem nonchalant but it was forced and he suspected that she noticed.

"You never asked." Amelia said, a bit uneasy. That feeling, the one where you know you shouldn't have said something the moment you said it but it's too late to take it back so you just pretend as thought it's okay when in reality you know it isn't, that feeling consumed Amelia.

"I'm asking now." Lucius said with as much determination as he could muster. His logic remained that if he could turn the situation around then Amelia would forget her original question. Unfortunately, Amelia was just as stubborn as the Slytherin.

"So am I." she pressed.

For a moment, when Lucius set his quill down, turned in his chair and set his eyes intently on her, Amelia thought that he would offer a response. She thought that the side of Lucius Malfoy she wanted to see, the side she knew that if made available to her she would fall in love with would show through.

But he just looked at her, waiting for her own reply. So she spoke.

"My mother," she began, "is part French, hence our frequent trips to Auxerre. She and my father are both Aurors in the Ministry … but you know that." She said hesitantly. "You know Edgar and Elliot and Emmeline mind as well be family; I tell her everything-"

"Not everything." He murmured, his eyes fluttering to the side for a moment before returning back to her.

"Right." She agreed, falling silent.

"You live in Andover?" he offered, internally begging for her to continue before asking him a series of questions.

"Yes." She nodded. "In a house that's far too large for five people, but my mum loves decorating it and the estate gives Edgar and Elliot a place to play Quidditch …" Amelia trailed off, a smile appearing on her face as she stared off into nothingness. "I remember when Edgar made the Quidditch team his second year. He had spent the entire summer practicing, using Elliot as a guinea pig. By the end of July, Elliot had broken nearly every bone in his body. So instead, my dad offered to help Ed practice. Elliot and Mum begged dad not to but he insisted. 'Anything,' he said, 'to make my children happy.'" Amelia said while Lucius' eyes turned to the emptiness in front of him. He pictured her in her youth with her family.

"By the time Ed was thirteen, we could all play classical piano. Elliot was and still is better than all of us, though he never admitted it, and especially not now." She grinned. "For some reason, I had decided that we should put on a show for my grandparents. Because Elliot was so brilliant I never asked him to practice but Edgar … Merlin, he and I fought endless over that. He said he didn't want anything to do with it. I cried, actually." She mused. "I didn't talk to him for days. My father finally picked up on it. He told me you couldn't force someone to do something they don't want to do, which I already knew, of course. But then," Amelia faded, thinking back to her father's words. "he said that the people you love, and that the people that love you, can surprise you the most."

"I didn't bother to ask Ed about it after that but I wasn't mad at him anymore. And then, on the day of the show, he came downstairs in his best suit and he stood beside me and he said that even though he didn't want anything to do with the piano, he wanted everything to do with me." Amelia eyes wavered back to Lucius who remained in a trance. His eyes were soft, almost empty and curious.

"They love you?" He asked, finally turning his eyes on her.

Amelia was taken aback. She had not expected that sort of response in return. Never did she recall anyone asking her if her parents loved her. It was so natural to her that she never thought of voicing it.

"Yes." She said quietly, almost inaudibly, as though she were guilt.

Amelia bit her lip in uncertainty, mulling over a though. Surely there was only one reason why Lucius would be so compelled to ask her such a question. His eyes rested on her as though he were waiting for her inquiry. She lowered her eyes to her lap before raising them with a question in mind. 'Does yours?' she wanted to ask, but before she could even ask, he replied,

"I don't know."

Amelia's mouth fell open ever so slightly, a little humbled and a little shocked. She did not know how to respond. More than anything else, she was nervous. Nervous of what to say, how to possibly respond to him. Offering him a faint smile, Amelia subtlety reached between them for more parchment. She thought that maybe she should break the tension by beginning to work on her assignment again. However, when she reached forward, Lucius had grabbed her hold of her hand, his eyes never leaving her face. Amelia looked over at him, feeling hollow. She wanted so much in this moment to give him every consolation he had been denied, every soothing caress he had missed. She wanted to give him the love and the compassion he deserved.

But right now, in his moment, she could not.

Instead, Amelia place her free hand on his arm, reassuring him that when the darkness finally faded, she would be there. She would always be there.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Thirteen.**

Nearly one week has passed since the Ball, which meant that nearly one week had passed since Rita bestowed upon Amelia the option of either telling her secret or having it told. Rita had no specific timestamp set on Amelia, but the brunette suspected that surpassing a week would be detrimental, which was why Amelia found herself down at the Quidditch pitch on a Saturday afternoon before dinner.

She had tried to plan the perfect scene in her mind of how to tell Kingsley. Her story was believable enough, she hoped. But each time she got him alone, she lost the nerve, and when she had the nerve, one of them was cornered by Emmeline or the boys. The entire week had been sickening and even Lucius was beginning to notice.

"You're sure she'll go through with it?" he had asked.

"You obviously don't know Rita very well. She'd send her parents to Azkaban if it meant wrapping her red fingernails around a piece of juicy gossip." Amelia sighed.

"I know what you're going to say," he said after a moment, "but if you want me to, I'll talk to him with you."

"Thanks," Amelia grinned, shaking her head, "but I think that might only make things worse."

Lucius knew that his presence would only complicate things. He had played Kingsley in Quidditch and despite the fact that he was a Keeper, he was one hell of a beater. Amelia didn't have to say it out loud – he could see how much his offer meant to her. Whatever this was, whatever it was becoming, it gave both of them the feeling that they had found a missing puzzle piece. Amelia supposed that was cliché but when she wasn't with Lucius, she was aching to be.

Amelia knew that the Quidditch Captains, minus Lucius, frequented the pitch just before dinner and figured that it was the best place to look for Kingsley. As of yet, he hadn't arrived, which gave Amelia some time to mull over what was about to happen. She would have liked to tell Kingsley the truth; that she only entered a relationship with him because she felt obligated to do so, that while she cared about him she never loved him, that her interests lay elsewhere, that she'd rather spend her time with Lucius Malfoy.

However, she could not be truthful in this situation. At least, she couldn't tell him the whole truth. Amelia had made a list of a number of reasons why she and Kingsley needed to end their one sided relationship. It wasn't exactly honest, but, Amelia thought, it was safer this way. For someone who loathed liars, Amelia Bones was becoming skilled at the art of deception.

It was officially the end of fall, which meant the beginning of winter. Amelia and her fellow classmates wasted no time breaking out their winter clothes. Over her regular uniform, she wore a picot, her robes and her Ravenclaw house scarf. Her attire, however, did not lesson the blow of the wind that wrapped itself around her bare legs. In the distance, Amelia could see three figures approaching the locker room. Sucking in her breath, she felt her heartbeat increase to the point where she could feel it pulsating through every part of her body. Letting out a tempered sigh, she quickly made her way over to the boys.

"Edgar!" Amelia called. "Amos, Kingsley!"

At once the three whirled around, two of the three faces lighting up instantly. Kingsley, in three long strides, closed the gap between them and placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead, which cause Edgar to beam.

"Lia," Edgar said, "what can we do for you?

"Well," Amelia began, sure that they could all see the redness in her ears; she prayed that they would dismiss it as the fault of the cold weather. "I needed to borrow Kingsley."

Amos wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Edgar smacked the Hufflepuff on the shoulder, giving him and 'I'm-her-older-brother-so-watch-it' look.

"What's wrong?" Kingsley asked.

For a moment, Amelia was ready to offer up one of her many practiced excuses but realized that she was not in the company to start unfurling her lies. Making eye contact with Edgar, she said, "Alone."

"All right." Edgar nodded, turning Amos in the direction of the castle, pushing him forward. "Don't keep him too long, Lia. We'll need him for after dinner.

"I actually don't know if we'll make it to dinner." Amelia said as an afterthought.

Amos let out a wolf whistle and Edgar rolled his eyes while muttering, "grow up, Diggory."

"Oh," Amelia said quickly, "Amos?"

"Yeah?" he said, spinning around and out of Edgar's grip.

"Could you tell Emmeline that I need to talk to her after dinner? In the Common Room."

"Will do." Amos nodded with a mock salute.

Amelia, in an attempt to put off the inevitable confrontation, watched as Edgar and Amos trekked all the way up to the castle. Kingsley leaned back against the structure of the stadium, his arms folded across his chest.

"Lia?" he said, flashing his most charming smile. Amelia whirled around to look at him. She felt a twinge of guilt, it was almost as if he knew what she was about to say, which made it that much harder.

Amelia rubbed her forehead, brushing back her hair as she did so. She supposed that this was never easy. Just the same, she never thought that she, of all people, would find herself in this situation.

"Kingsley," she sad, forcing herself to look him in the eye – he deserved that, at least, "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few weeks …. about, well, … you know, about us."

Amelia watched as Kingsley hung his head, his expression falling. The wizard rubbed his jaw line, waiting for her to continue.

"I just … I really just don't think I'm being fair to you," Amelia said with a tone that was meant to comfort him. "You're seventeen, in your final year at school. You should be having fun a-and focusing more on your schoolwork." Amelia had decided that if she lay the blame of her actions on schoolwork, it would be easily believed. She hated herself for trying to justify it, but there it was. "I'm nothing but … but a distraction for you." Which wasn't true at all, seeing as they hardly spent any time together at all, but he nodded just the same. "I'm just really confused right now, Kingsley. I don't feel like we're benefitting each other … not the way we should. Maybe," she sighed, "maybe somewhere down the road, we can see where this goes, but right now …" she closed her eyes for a moment before refocusing her gaze on his honey colored eyes, "I just can't do it."

Kingsley took in a breath, casting his eyes out upon the empty Quidditch field. It was clear – the hurt on his face. Anyone could say without hesitation that he loved Amelia. There was no question. Those same people, however, would also say that Amelia did not reciprocate those feelings. Kingsley felt a hollow shell crack beneath his chest; a shell he had tried to ignore. He had hoped that Amelia would learn to love him, which was why he never asked her where she spent all of her time – he feared pushing her away. He feared that she would finally realize where she stood with him despite his best efforts to keep her blind from it. He had just hoped that his greatest fear wasn't realized.

Turning his back to Amelia, Kingsley shoved his hands deep into his pockets, the wind catching his hair. Heartbreak is hard to describe. Its perils and casualties can never be personified or immortalized. But it was draped across Kingsley Shacklebolt's brow like a scarf worn to ward off the cold, only he had hoped to ward off something else entirely.

"So," Kingsley sighed, "who is he?"

* * *

Mouth Shut - The Veronicas

* * *

To those of you who have been so patient with me for the longs breaks, thank you. Also, one of my friends went to Leaky Con in Chicago this summer and said someone mentioned Breath! I'm hoping that you're still reading this and thank you so much for your lovely words! 3


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Fourteen.**

There was a pounding in Amelia's head that was consistent throughout her speech. It was loud and annoying and very much alive. She felt it subside considerably when she had finished and Kingsley looked away. He was taking it better than she had hoped. However, when he turned to face her and asked the question she had prayed would never cross his mind, her stomach sank to the ground beneath them. Perhaps lower. And that pounding – that God awful pounding – exploded through every bone in her body.

"What?" she said, exasperated. She didn't have to try and hide her disbelief – it was written all over her face.

"Please … don't make me say it again, Lia." Kingsley said, his face pained.

The last thing Amelia wanted to do was hurt Kingsley because she had already done enough. She intended to keep her relationship with Lucius a secret as long as possible. However, she did not want to lie to Kingsley anymore. So in a rash decision, Amelia stared blankly at Kingsley, trying to wipe all traces of emotion – mainly guilt – off her face.

Kingsley looked at Amelia, cocking his head to the side. He had for song long cared about her, loved her, even. It was paralyzing for him to think that not once had she ever reciprocated anything he felt, although he had long ago suspected it. He knew that there must have been someone, anyone, else, otherwise, she would have contented herself with him.

"Amelia-" he started again.

"Kingsley," Amelia interrupted, "Everything I told you is true." She reassured him.

In the back of her mind, Amelia tried to convince herself of this. That her excuses really were reasons and that ending the lopsided relationship was solely for his benefit than heartbreak.

Kingsley immediately realized that Amelia was trying to make herself believe something and he wholly believed that he deserved to know what it was. Who, he wondered, had captured her attention so much that she lying not only to him, but everyone around her? What was so horrible that it prevented her from simply saying, 'Kingsley, I've found someone else?'

"What house is he in?" he said simply.

"There's no-"

"A house," he repeated, "that's all I'm looking for."

Amelia stayed silent and averted her gaze from Kingsley, though she was positive he could see the guilt on her face. He shrugged easily.

"Too ashamed?" he said with no particular tone, to which Amelia did not reply. "Shall we run through them then?"

Amelia felt the wind whip around her head, her hair cascading around her face. She wondered if it was coincidental that the elements concealed her crimson cheeks from the Gryffindor's scrutinizing gaze.

"Gryffindor?" he posed, to which Amelia did not react. With a nod, he continued. "At least you're not the lowest kind of infidel. I can appreciate that much … Ravenclaw?" he continued. Amelia thought for a moment about confessing Xeno as her confidential partner, but decided that bringing him into the situation would do more harm than good. "Really? I would have pinpointed a certain blonde bookworm to be the object of your affection. Then again, you haven't really been around Ravenclaw Tower that much anyway, how could you spend any time with him …. Hufflepuff?"

Amelia felt a panic set in. He was getting closer and closer to the correct house and it was too late to change her mind. 'Be honest' she reminded herself 'and he'll forgive you.'

"No? Yes, I suppose Diggory is the only one that you might have any interest in if you wanted to kill two birds with one stone and betray your best friend as well." He smirked, her stomach going sour. "Well, then," he said, clasping his hands together behind his back, "that leaves Slytherin.

"What do you say we keep going? We've already gotten this far." Amelia stayed silent, showing no emotion as he rattled off the name that came to mind, keeping a close eye on Amelia's face. "MacNair … no, I guess Alecto would murder you over him, Amycus, too, actually … Rookwood? …. Lestrange? …. Rosier? …. Avery? …. Dawlish? …. Nott? …. Greengrass? …. No? Well the only person left is Mal … "

When Kingsley trailed off, Amelia instinctively and regrettably raised her gaze to Kingsley and wished more than anything that she hadn't. Let him think it was a someone, _anyone_ else.

"No … you're not …" Kingsley grappled.

"Kingsley, just-"

"Of all people, Amelia!" Kingsley exploded, causing Amelia to jump at the tone in his voice. She had never seen him so enraged before. "Malfoy? _Malfoy?!_ Have you gone completely mad?"

"No, of course not, I'm-" Amelia tried again.

"Has he got you under some sort of … some sort of spell?" Kingsley said quickly. There had to be a reason, some explanation. The Amelia he knew wouldn't give the time of day to someone like Lucius Malfoy.

"No." Amelia said quickly shaking her head.

"Then it's strictly for gain, right?" he stressed. "You agree to date him and he … he's promised you something?"

"No." Amelia repeated.

Kingsley desperately searched his mind for a valid excuse that would explain her behavior but he couldn't find any. Running his hand over his face, he sighed heavily.

"Then what?" he said, his voice breaking.

Amelia bowed her head, debating on what to say. She still has a chance to lie her way out and seek forgiveness. She could admit that yes, Lucius had given her a draft that made her sense of reason questionable. It would be easy to believe. She could try to say that he forced her to and she was too frightened to tell anyone. But Lucius didn't deserve that. She cared for him too much. Then, her own words echoed through her mind. _I'm tired of lying_. That she was. Amelia tucked her hair behind her hear and folded her arms across her chest, as if to protect herself from the fallout that would come.

"I care about him Kingsley." She said softly.

Kingsley eyes' widened in disbelief. It crossed his mind once that that might be her answer. But once only. Amelia Bones loathed Lucius Malfoy on principle. It was basic mathematics. How … Why … Kingsley turned the questions over and over in his mind. But Amelia's voice was sincere.

"You _care_ about him? Since when? How … how is that possible, Amelia? You know … we _all_ know what he is! Who he's going to be. How … how can you stand there and tell me you care about him? He's using you!" Kingsley said exasperated.

"You wouldn't understand, Kingsley." Amelia said, her tone unwavering.

"Then … then make me understand. Tell me what you see in him because obviously you're the only one seeing it." He spat.

Amelia cast her navy blue eyes to Kingsley's chocolate brown. She could see how hurt he was and even though it would not have seemed like it to an outsider, it was killing her. No one hated Amelia more than she did herself. If she wasn't honest with him now, the situation would only get worse.

"Kingsley," Amelia said softly, "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, but Lucius," Amelia saw Kingsley wince at her informal use of his name, "isn't using me. If anyone was manipulated for some sort of gain, it was you, and," she sighed heavily, "and that was my fault. I'm sorry. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not him."

"You're a fool, Amelia." Kingsley said with a shake of his head, turning and looking up at the castle. "Look at what he's got you thinking – that this is your fault-"

"This _is_ my fault!"

"Come off it, Lia. You're so … so consumed with him that you're trying to blame yourself for what he's done-"

"And you're so consumed with me that you can't even admit it when I make mistakes!" Amelia shouted back. She lowered her head, her voice now quiet. "You've got to take me off this pedestal you have me on, Kingsley."

Kingsley gave Amelia a hard look. She was right. In his mind, she was golden. He loved her too much to think that she was capable of something like this.

"How did it start?" he said after a moment.

"Professor Flitwick asked me to tutor him in Charms."

"Figures." Kingsley rolled his eyes. "Git can't even get a descent grade on his own." Amelia had to bite her tongue not to explain why Lucius' grades had dropped – it would only ad fuel to the fire for Kingsley to know that Lucius had been sneaking off to meet the infamous Dark Lord. "That's where you always went – with him." Amelia nodded. "Where did you go? …. You know what, never mind, I don't want to know. So .. are his grades still suffering or is it just me?" he asked indifferent.

"Kingsley, I'm-"

"I know, you're sorry, but it doesn't change anything." He sighed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have … have you and he … ?"

"No, no." Amelia shook her head. "No."

"I would've though that was the first thing on his mind." Kingsley said, cocking his head.

"He's different with me. He's not who you think he is." Amelia said easily.

"I hope so." Kingsley said sincerely, his eyes wet.

"Kingsley … I'm sorry."

"Sorry … sorry, sorry you're so goddamned sorry!" he said, closing the gap between them and taking her by her shoulders. "I love you, Amelia! I've loved you since the beginning. I would have given you everything – I _tried_ to give you everything and you … you're off with him, studying _charms_." He scoffed. "Am I that terrible for you? What is it? Just tell me, please, what is it about him? What makes him better than me? Why do you want him and not me? Just give me that. At least give me that." He said, searching her face for answers.

Kingsley's face was soaked with tears and he sniffled, trying to keep composure. She had never seen a grown man, let alone Kingsley cry like this. So distraught. So hurt. And to think that this was her doing.

"I care about him, Ki-"

"But I love you!" he yelled over top of her, which was enough to silence her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt loved her today, and he would love her tomorrow. He would love her on the 30th birthday and he would love her if she had children with someone else. He knew that now. Amelia was everything he wanted and if he couldn't have her, so be it. No matter what the future brought them, his heart wouldn't change. But he also knew that hers wouldn't either.

"Don't." Amelia said quietly.

"Fine." Kingsley nodded. "Go on. Go to him. Go be with him. Go tell him how much you care about him." He scorned. "But after he's done with you – and he will be – you'll realize exactly what you did wrong."

Kingsley did not wait for Amelia to reply before turning to head toward the castle. She watched him walk away for a moment before something came to mind.

"Kingsley!" she called and he turned around slowly. "You're … you're not going to tell them, are you?" she bit her lip, nervous.

"What do you think, Lia?" was all Kingsley said before turning around and continuing on.

Amelia watched him as he walked. Back to Edgar. Back to Emmeline. Back to everyone that was inside having dinner, oblivious to everything that was happening. Kingsley said it himself – he loved her, he would continue to love her. She was reassured by that thought that her secret was safe, at least for now. She wondered if he was going to tell them if they broke up. Eventually, but not tonight, Amelia would come clean. There was only one person Amelia wanted to see right now, so she made her way to the castle, careful to step around Kingsley's snow-prints.

* * *

All The Same - Sick Puppies


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Fifteen.**

Amelia knew that she should have gone to dinner, or at the very least to Ravenclaw Tower, to try and explain things. She knew that if she didn't, her friends would start asking questions. _Be descent_, she told herself when she reached the castle. But when she walked past the Great Hall and found herself climbing the stairs to the seventh floor, a curious thought crossed her mind.

Now that she wasn't with Kingsley, did that mean she was with Lucius?

Kingsley inside's were shaking with anger, even when he resumed his normal seat beside Amos at the Ravenclaw Table. His mind reeled with questions he didn't have the answers to. Did she love him? Was it all some trick? Where was she? was the last thought to grace his mind when his eyes instinctively darted to the Slytherin table where Lucius was curiously – or perhaps, not so curiously anymore – absent. He tried not to let the idea that they were together at they very moment get the better of him. But, Merlin, it was hard.

–––––––––––––

Amelia paced in front of the Room of Requirement and nearly threw herself through the door when it appeared. Lucius was sitting on the couch with a textbook on his lap. She had to grin at this – her behavior was rubbing off on him if he was studying leisurely.

She turned her back to Lucius and faced the door when she felt her eyes welling. This was what she had wanted, wasn't it? Freed from Kingsley's shackles, able to look at Lucius without the guilt of infidelity washing over her like a tidal wave. Why was she so upset? She thought about the look on Kingsley's face when he came to the conclusion that it was Lucius – the devastation, the complete and utter devastation. If someone had told her years ago that she could be responsible for that kind of pain, she never would have believed it.

"There you are." Lucius said absently. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up."

Amelia sighed heavily, taking a deep breath before responding.

"Can we drop the banter for tonight?"

It wasn't what she said that made Lucius close his book and put it to the side. It was that she didn't offer him one of her infamous 'grow-up-you-child' looks when she said it.

"What's going on?" he asked carefully, watching her closely for signs of emotion.

Amelia failed to reply and instead, walked straight past him toward the bookshelves, shaking her head.

"Does something have to be wrong if I'm not in the mood to fight with you?" she asked, irritated as she pulled a book from the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

Lucius stood and walked to where she was standing, pulling the book from her hands.

"Yes." He said evenly.

Amelia raised her navy blue eyes to his and bit her bottom lip. He would be furious, she knew. After his reaction over Rita, she could only imagine what he'd say about Kingsley. She began replaying scenarios in her mind of horrific shouting matches. She could picture Lucius storming out, frustrated that she couldn't just leave well enough alone. Her throat started to swell at the thought of it.

Lucius furrowed his brow at her. He could tell that she was wrestling with something but he couldn't guess what.

"Amelia." He said firmly.

Amelia's lip trembled in hesitation and her tear ducts started working over time. She shook her head and it all came out in one breath.

"I went to talk to Kingsley and tell him that we needed to spend time apart and that we weren't being fair to each other but when I did," she gasped for air, "he kept asking questions. He knew t-that something was wrong and he j-j-just wouldn't stop narrowing it down and when he got to your name," she shook her head, furious with herself, "I guess my face just gave it away and he was so mad – I've never seen him like that before and," she stuttered on her words, losing control of her airways, "when I a-a-a-asked him if he was going to say anything he didn't answer me-"

Lucius cut Amelia off, refusing to let her say anymore. He pulled her body to his and wrapped his arms around her small frame, letting her tuck her head beneath his chin and let her sobs take over. They came softly, meekly, ashamed. He held her tighter, embarrassed that she felt like she had done something wrong, embarrassed that he had given her that impression. It was a near-binding embrace – he wanted to squeeze every ounce of frustration and sadness from her body.

Amelia buried her face into his chest, praying that she would be forgiven for this, not just by Lucius, but by everyone.

Kingsley drummed his thumbs against the hardwood table, unable to touch the food on his plate.

–––––––––––––

"King," Edgar said, sitting his goblet down, "where'd Lia go?"

"Yeah," Amos said in between bites of his drumstick, "you're back awfully early. I would have thought your, er, conversation would have taken a little longer."

"Hey, hey," Edgar said in a very brotherly manner.

"Shut up, Ed." Elliot said with a roll of his eyes, "It's not like you haven't been pushing for it."

"Doesn't mean I want the image of my sister …" he trailed off, searching for the word.

"Fornicating?" Amos offered.

"Enough." Edgar's tone was hard.

"But where is she really?" Emmeline asked, curiously. "Amos said she wanted to talk to me."

"Oh," Kingsley nodded, "Right … well … she said something about picking up a book at the library, so …"

"Always studying, that one." Nathalia said cheerily.

"Yeah, always." Kingsley agreed, soft sarcasm in his voice.

"King," Edgar said, tilting his head to the side while looking at the Gryffindor, "you feeling all right? You look a bit peeky."

Kingsley debated whether or not to tell Edgar about what had happened. It was his sister, he of all people had a right to know what Amelia was up to. For Merlin's sake, her safety could be at risk – he needed to look out for her. If Edgar knew that Kingsley was withholding something, especially this, he'd be livid.

"No, I'm fine." He said with a shake of his head.

"Did something happen between you and Lia?" Edgar pressed, his expression now that of true concern.

At this point, the entire table seemed interested. Kingsley's affection for the femme Bones was not unnoticed. The way he brushed her hair away from her face, how his hand always found the small of her back, the way he looked at her as if she were a rare stone worth protecting.

With a nonchalant wave of his hand, Kingsley replied,

"We're, er, taking a bit of a break."

"A break?" Cordelia asked, her eyebrows arched clear to the tips of her hairline. "You hardly see each other to need a break.

Of the lot of them, Cordelia always seemed to pick up on the common sense bits, something the rest of them lacked. Their books smarts could only take them so far, Kingsley supposed. More often than not, Cordelia's observations were more irritating than helpful.

But she made a valid point. When Kingsley wasn't at Quidditch practice or at a math, Amelia was off studying. Or, as he learned, with Lucius. Only during the first few weeks of September did they spend any real time together.

"Exactly." Kingsley nodded matter of factly. "There's no point in being together right now – neither of us have the time. We just need to mull it all over for a while."

Kingsley flashed a bright and convincing grin that caused most in the vicinity to nod and return to their dinner and mild chatter. But Xeno met Kingsley's gaze for a moment. He was placid and calm but Kingsley suspected that the boy's demeanor suggested something else. He thought ht heard a quiet 'she didn't really want you anyway' in Xeno's eyes.

–––––––––––––

Lucius sat with his back against the corner of the couch, Amelia back pressed against him, the both of the underneath a black and white crocheted afghan. Amelia's eyes were closed and had she not been drawing absent circles with her finger on the back of Lucius' hand, she would have seemed to be asleep. Lucius' eyes were wide open, his chin atop her head, the familiar scent of spring taking over him. Her head rose and fell against his even breathing and for a moment, he felt peaceful. No anxiety. No pressure. Just Amelia.

"Lucius?" Amelia murmured, her eyelashes lifting to unveil the unnatural blue that made up her eyes.

"Hmm?" he responded, his voice low and entranced.

"Do you remember when I asked you about your family?" she said, her tone light. She knew it was a sensitive subject because if it weren't, he would have surely mentioned them before.

"Mmhmm.." he said with the same tone.

Yes. He remembered. He remembered the look on her face when he asked her if her parents loved her. The curiosity she had let go in that instance but had now welled up once again, as he expected it might. Yes, he remembered.

"Do you ever think that they expect too much of you?" she asked tentatively.

It was a difficult question to answer. Not so much because of how he would respond, but because of his decision to respond at all.

Amelia wasn't sure if she should have said anything or not. She didn't exactly know where she stood with Lucius. Their relationship had not gone past the brief and stolen kisses that were still fresh on their lips. But she wanted to know him. She wanted to know who he was when he wasn't with her.

"Yes." He said evenly, shifting his head so that he was looking at her, making direct eye contact. Amelia bit her lip before asking her next question, forcing herself not to look away from him.

"What do they expect, exactly?"

Lucius felt himself chuckle at this. Amelia raised her eyebrows.

"You mean am I one of his followers?" he specified for her.

Amelia felt her cheeks flush and she tore her eyes away from him for a moment before letting them settle on the cool grey that steadily looked back at her.

Lucius pulled his left arm out from beneath the blanket and held it out to her, as if to say, 'go ahead. Look.' Amelia slowly lifted herself up and let her fingers work the buttons on his sleeve until it came loose. She was nervous for what she might see. Her parents had been talking about Him for some time now and had mentioned to Edgar and Edgar alone the details. Naturally, Edgar felt that his brother and sister had a right to know, especially if they planned on defending themselves. He told them about the dark magic and the army that was supposedly being assembled. Lucius Malfoy was allegedly involved, the first to be a part of His inner circle. There was a mark, Edgar warned, that certified whether or not a one was a member of the group. Amelia exhaled. If Lucius had it, that meant that things were even more complicated than she imagined. She wanted to believe that he hadn't made that commitment. At least not yet.

Amelia rolled up his sleeve slowly, her eyes darting back and forth between his stern expression and his cool alabaster-white skin. She it reached the crook of his elbow, she sighed in relief, delicately tracing her fingers along the bare and empty spot.

Then, another thought crossed her mind. Just because he wasn't one now, did not mean he wouldn't become one later. It was almost as if he sensed her thought because he shook his head and said, "I don't plan on joining him."

Amelia was surprised by this. Wasn't the entire Slytherin house dying to be accepted? Didn't they all jump when owls flew into the Great Hall because they were anticipating a summon?

"If you don't believe in what he stands for, then why did you leave the castle to meet with him last year?" Amelia shook her head, confused.

"Don't misunderstand me, Amelia." Lucius said carefully. "I didn't say I didn't believe in what he stands for. I do."

"So you think Muggleborns and Halfbloods should be slaughtered?" Amelia asked, sounding more appalled than she intended to sound.

"Not exactly." He tilting his head to the side, taking a moment before explaining. "Magic should be kept within magic families. Everyone else should be exempt. That is _my_ belief."

"And your definition of Pureblood is … ?" she posed. Her own definition, though she hardly ever thought about it, was having magical parents.

"It depends on your grandparents." He said. "For example, the Boneses from our father's side, and from your mother's side …" he trailed off, allowing for her to fill in the blank.

"Peau."

"Right, Peau well-" Lucius stopped short. "Hang on. Your grandparents are French, yes?"

"Yes." Amelia was confused. Nationality had nothing to do with blood purity.

"I'm not terribly well versed in the language," he said, biting back a grin, "but if I understand it correctly, you and your brothers are made up and 'skin' and 'bones.'"

Amelia had never put the two together before. Having spoken French nearly all her life, the meaning of her mother's maiden name struck her as comical only now. Laughing, she nodded.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Right." He grinned, his pearl-white teeth poking out from under his pink lips. "At any rate, your grandparents, in my eyes," he specified, "determine your purity."

"Oh." Amelia said, still a little unsure of the concept but deciding not to bombard him with any more questions. Lucius laughed and it made Amelia slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he explained, sitting up a little straighter next to her, "but you look a little ill."

"Oh …" Amelia said, trying to mask her facial expression, "I just …" she paused, brushing her hair away from her eyes, "Is it okay? I mean, to talk about this?"

Lucius closed his eyes. He should have expected this. It was a shattered glass territory – everyone knew that – which made talking about it difficult, especially with someone who was already biased. It was a stressor that weighed on him daily. The pressure he felt wasn't exactly something he could discuss with his parents or friends, whom he only considered acquaintances.

Before he could answer her, she added,

"It's okay if you don't want to. I was just curious, that's al." she said hesitantly.

Lucius nodded, rubbing his jawline.

"You just want to know me." He stated.

Amelia returned the nod slowly. The way he said it made her slightly uneasy, as if she was asking too much of him, crossing a line. Maybe she was. Even though he was … involved with Narcissa, Amelia doubted that he had discussed even this much with her. Maybe he just liked to be private. She digressed. She never should have brought it up. When he extended his hand to her cheek and let his fingers trace the side of her face, she felt her skin ignite.

"I want you to know me, Amelia." He said and pressed his lips to her forehead.

In what Amelia could wholly say was the first time, she wanted every fiber of her being encompassed by Lucius Malfoy.

–––––––––––––

When Amelia returned to the Common Room later on in the evening when she assumed that everyone was asleep, she was a little surprised to see her brothers, their respective other halves, Rita and Emmeline crowded around the fireplace. Her heart sank for the second time today. There was only one possible reason why they would all be standing around the mantle awaiting her return. Kingsley had said something.

"Lia," Edgar said upon her entrance, "Where have you been? Does it honestly take six hours to pick up a book from the library?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh," Amelia faltered, taken aback. Upon realizing that Kingsley had kept her secret just that, she sighed in relief. He must have fabricated a story to explain her absence. "Well, I got sidetracked …" she trailed off.

"Nevermind that," Emmeline broke in, hopping off the couch and grabbing Amelia's hands. "Kingsley told us what happened-"

Suddenly, Amelia was nervous again. Maybe he only made up the bit about the library because he didn't want Edgar to entertain the idea that his sister was with Lucius at that very moment. Kingsley had every reason to seek revenge. Amelia was a fool to think otherwise.

"Why are you taking a break?" Emmeline asked, her brown doe eyes wide.

Amelia opened her mouth, ready to defend herself when the realized what Emmeline had said. Slowly, she realized what had happened. Kingsley didn't just craft a story about Amelia's absence, he created a façade about the entire exchange. Amelia had done nothing to deserve this sort of generosity from Kingsley Shacklebolt. If anything, she should be groveling, explaining herself twofold. For whatever reason, he was keeping her secret, or at the very least, buying her time. Rita cast a disdainful look at Amelia. Clearly, this was not the outcome she was hoping for, but that didn't mean she was about to give up a front row seat to watch it all unfold.

"It's a long story." Amelia shrugged.

"We've got time." Nathalia nodded.

"Come on, Lia." Cordelia prompted. "This has to be hard. Let us be here for you."

It was clear that without a valid explanation, Amelia was not going to get any sleep tonight. So in the girls' dormitory, Amelia went over the reasons for the break up. They mirrored the same ones she had given Kingsley. She figured that if she had to lie about it, she should at least be consistent. Nathalia and Cordelia made tea and nodded comfortingly, saying things like, 'don't worry, you'll be back together in no time,' and 'you need to find yourself before you can find each other.' Emmeline on the other hand knew Amelia for too long to believe the load of bullocks that Nathalia and Cordelia were spooning up. She sat quietly with her back leaned against the footboard of the four poster, her arms folded across her chest. She couldn't ask Amelia what had really happened in front of her future in-laws, and certainly not in the same room as Rita, who was perched on her own bed across the room, listening closely. Emmeline offered a simple, 'I'm sorry.' She planned on asking her about it the following morning but when she awoke, Amelia had already left Ravenclaw Tower.

It was becoming clearer and clearer to Emmeline, Edgar and Elliot, the three people who knew her better than anyone, that something wasn't adding up. They hardly ever saw her anymore. She was always running late or leaving early to go somewhere else. In class, she concentrated all of her energy on making sure that her lessons were perfect so that she could ignore Emmeline's questions. It was strange, they thought.

But Rita, who listened to the girls false story from her own bed across the room, let a sly smile slip onto her lips. 'My my,' she thought, ' Amelia, what have you done?'

* * *

Screaming Infidelities - Dashboard Confessional


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